


The Boys in the Band

by whothehellislarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1d, Band, Banter, Bottom Harry, Bottom Harry Styles, Bottom Louis Tomlinson, Eventual Smut, Gay, Gay Sex, Handcuffs, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson Being Idiots, Harry has Big Dick Energy, Inspired by Real Events, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, One Direction Tours, Porn with Feelings, Power Bottom Louis Tomlinson, Real Life, Realistic, Shameless Smut, Smut, Teasing, Teenage One Direction, Top Harry, Top Harry Styles, Top Louis Tomlinson, Top/Bottom Versatile Harry Styles, Top/Bottom Versatile Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Top/Bottom Versatile Louis Tomlinson, big dick energy, big hands, larry smut, larry stylinson - Freeform, larry stylinson smut, one direction tour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28853622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whothehellislarry/pseuds/whothehellislarry
Summary: One Direction are on their first-ever tour across the UK. On their tour bus late one night, Louis stirs awake to the sounds of Harry jerking off.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 41
Kudos: 169





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Louis heard one of the other boy’s getting off, he was more amused than mortified or embarrassed that he’d inadvetertenly caught his friend in the middle of a wank. Actually, he‘d laughed to himself.

He was passing the small shower/toilet ensuite on their tour bus late at night when he heard a low groan on the other side of the door. At first, he thought nothing of it, but stopped, curious and slightly concerned.

About to speak out – “You okay?“ – Louis was still standing on the other side of the door when he heard a second, lower groan that made it more clear what was going on.

While he couldn’t tell who it was from the sound alone, Louis smirked, laughed to himself and shook his head. Then, he wandered off, feeling too awkward to hang around any longer and figure out who it was, even if it did mean he could tease his bandmate about it later. Louis‘ hand felt the back of his neck awkwardly; he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know who it was anyway.

—

The second time Louis heard one of his bandmate’s getting off, he was lying in his bunk and awoke in the middle of the night due to the sound of small, shallow breaths above him. Taking a few moments to wake and realise what was going on, Louis heard the breathing above him and immediately realised what was going on. This time, Louis didn’t laugh to himself, didn’t even smirk.

Above him was Harry’s bunk. Harry was lying above him, very discreetly trying to get off.

Immediately, Louis’ felt embarrassed, his cheeks flushing red. Was Harry...? – he was. Another low sigh came from the bunk above him and Louis felt it all go to his groin and – fuck.

His eyes shut tight, Louis willed for himself to not – not to respond. To not feel – to not feel anything in response. A crush on Harry was fine, a crush was okay but...

But it was too late. In his half awake, just-out-of-sleep state, Louis felt his dick harden, just like that. He told himself it was because he was just sleeping, that it was because he just woke up. Maybe he was having a sexy dream before he woke, maybe that‘s why he —

But when Harry made another low noise of pleasure above him, the noise went straight to Louis’ dick again, encouraging him, willing him, pleading him, and Louis cursed himself silently in his head. His eyes shut tight still, he found his hand venturing down to his own cock. Slowly wrapping his right hand around himself, Louis wondered if he was mirroring whatever it was Harry was doing up above him.

Suddenly Harry let out a long, breathy sigh. Louis heard bedsheets ruffling and then he heard a low groan. It was lower than before, and Louis responded by holding his breath, his hand stopping on himself. He felt dirty. He felt wrong. He felt like he was imposing on Harry‘s moment alone, or at least he thought he was. And maybe he shouldn’t ruin that... But fuck, Louis knew, it was too late to say anything now. And he definitely wasn‘t going back to sleep anytime soon. Not unless he got off first…

His eyes closed, his hand touching himself gingerly, Louis listened quietly and intensely for any other noises he could hear. His patience paid off, because then he heard Harry sigh again, softly, lowly. Louis‘ ears perked up at the sound; his dick twitching in his hand. Fuck. Harry‘s voice was so low that when Harry moaned quietly again, Louis knew he was a lost cause. His hand gripped himself tightly; he was in this now. He couldn‘t ignore the sounds he heard; couldn‘t ignore the thoughts in his mind. How could Harry be so open? He wondered. It dawned on him this may not have been the first time Harry was jerking off as they all lay asleep. The idea alone made more blood rush to his dick and then Louis was really playing with himself, his thumb teasing his head, brushing oh so softly along his slit. When he heard Harry sigh again, it took all of Louis‘ self control not to groan in response. Please, fuck. Instead, Louis turned his head into his pillow as he took a firm hold on himself again. Did it count as mutual masturbation if Harry didn‘t know he was going to jack off with him?

The thought of getting Harry off was suddenly all that Louis could think of. He wondered, just above him, what was it that Harry doing? Was he working slow, teasing himself, like Louis liked to? Was it a shameless fast jackoff? It didn‘t sound like the latter, because Harry‘s breaths were only audible every now and then. Small sighs in the dark, mostly, and then, another moan. The moan made Louis buck his hips into his own hand. Fuck. And then he was working harder on himself; he had a tighter grip on himself and he was running his hand up and down himself, his hand slick from lots of precum. His tongue poked slightly out of his mouth, just making his lips wet. Breathing in slowly, Louis knew he had to be quiet, but fuck. He was fully just jacking off now, fully aware it was Harry‘s fault too.

Above him, Harry continued on, nonethewiser. The sound of Harry turning in his bunk made Louis stiff in his own bunk, halting at the sound of Harry moving, his hand wrapped tight around himself, both impossibly aroused and equally fearful he‘d just been caught.

Holding his breath, Louis suddenly became aware of how fast his heart was pounding. He only exhaled when he heard movement again; above him, Harry‘s bunk creaked rhymically as Harry moved himself down into his mattress. Louis had no idea what Harry was doing, but god, how he found himself shamelessly wishing he could watch, a fly on the wall as Harry jerked off. If he could just watch, if he could just see...

But all Louis could get in the near darkness that surrounded them was that Harry was moving in a slow time; his bed creaking as he moved. His eyes shut tight, in his mind‘s eye, Louis pictured Harry fucking his own pretty, large hand and the thought alone made Louis speed up on himself. When he heard Harry let out a shaky groan, Louis swallowed a lump he didn‘t know he had in his throat. Then Harry kept going, as, still moving in his bed, with each movement, he let out a low moan.

The sounds made Louis ache. Underneath Harry‘s bunk, Louis hand became rough on himself, working quickly, desperately to relieve himself. Jesus fuck. This was ridiculous, Louis knew. And keeping himself quiet was a feat he could boast to no one about, but he couldn‘t be caught out by Harry now if he let himself slip up just once and audibly groan. They were both way too far in now.

In rhythmic timing, Harry became more shameless as he ground down on the mattress below him, murmuring a glorious “fuck“ as he fucked the mattress below him, his hand on himself too, guiding the whole situation just how he liked it. Still completely unaware to the company he was keeping, Harry kept on as he felt a familiar feeling rise in the pit of his stomach. And then he was swearing again: “ah shit, ah fuck, ah fuck, fuck, fuck…“

He was quiet, trying so hard to be so quiet, but Louis heard every delicious word and found himself jerking off to the sweet and dirty sounds from Harry‘s mouth.

When Harry eventually came with a guttural sigh, Louis was both surprised and mortified by how the noise affected him: his body jerked up and he began to jerk himself off even harder, this time arching his back in desperation. In his mind‘s eye, Harry was either jerking him off or his hand was around Harry and he was jerking him off. The thought served as Louis‘ last inspiration before he came silently, and hard, just from his own hand, his own thoughts, his head tilting back as he did.

Impressed by how silent he‘d managed to be, Louis didn‘t dare move again until he was completely sure Harry was asleep. By then, he felt both disgusted and a little bit appalled at what he‘d done; he‘d totally used Harry‘s wank as fodder for his own. He should have just let Harry be and gone back to sleep, hearing his wanking sighs, but not hearing his wank‘s end. But Harry – his sighs, his little moans, his soft groans – Harry hadn‘t made that easy for him. And once he‘d heard Harry sigh in pleasure, he just had to hear the end of it.

The end - hearing Harry‘s orgasm – stayed with Louis in a way he didn‘t expect. That is, the sound replayed over and over in his mind. It was a guttural sound, a noise of pure pleasure and pain and its sweet release. The incredibly deep sound was preceded by those string of curse words, but then Harry was cut off by his own feelings and he went quiet, half choking on air, half choking on what he was feeling; he fell completely silent before his low sigh, his deep groan as he rode out his orgasm. Fuck, Louis thought, Harry‘s voice was so deep, so low. And how could it be so deep, so low?

So the sound stayed with him. And eventually, orchestrated and finished off his dreams. In the morning, Louis awoke with an especially hard morning erection; Harry and what he‘d heard last night was the first thing to come to his mind. Groaning, Louis rubbed at his face before he looked down at his ‘problem‘. Then, he half sat up in his bed to see if the others were all already up.

As far as he could see, the coast was clear, with each bunk he could see empty. Pleased and relieved, Louis let his hand venture down his naked torso and down into his sweat pants. Louis was always the last to wake, and it meant he could jerk off if he had to. And, considering that even through his sheets Louis could see his hard-on, he really did have to. Sighing, figuratively shrugging, Louis‘ hand found its way down to his cock like it had so many times before. And like so many times before, he had a quick morning wank, unashamedly rocking himself up into his own hands, trying to fuck himself harder on his own wank, his head pushed back into his pillow, his back arched, his eyes shut tight.

Only this time when he shut his eyes, Louis had a different fantasy leading his thoughts. It was Harry. Of course it fucking was. His deep groans, his deep sighs, his deep moans - Louis was enamoured. And until he could hear those sounds again, he‘d just have to remember how they sounded in his head. Even the memory alone made Louis come particularly hard and particularly fast. Taking a moment to catch his breath and collect his thoughts, Louis eventually dragged himself up and out of bed.

He went for a piss and a shower and then Louis was looking at himself momentarily in the mirror, meeting his own gaze before he played with his hair, moving his fringe to cover his eyes a bit more.

Leaving the bathroom, feeling sheepish, Louis went out to find the boys. He was glad his fluffy, still-damp hair fell down and covered his eyes unless he pushed his fringe out of his eyes. But walking into breakfast with the lads, Louis made no such effort as his eyes scanned the boys and found Harry quickly. While Zayn, Liam and Niall were sat on the breakfast bar couch, Harry was standing at a counter, leaning down against it apparently deep in thought. Feeling his face heat up, and fearing a visible blush, Louis looked back immediately down before their eyes met.

“Morning, lads,“ Louis offered as he walked on past Harry and made for the kettle. He popped it on and stood as casually as he possibly could considering how close he was to Harry.

“Morning,“ Harry mumbled, his voice low, and he offered Louis a quick glance.

Across the counter, Zayn nodded in response and Niall clicked his tongue in a jovial way, “Ready for another amazing day, men“.

„Always,“ said Liam.

„Yep,“ Louis added, but his mind wasn‘t on today‘s plan or tonight‘s show, it was on Harry. He leant back against the counter, as Harry leant on it the other way, the two facing opposing ways. He stared him down, feeling more brave as the seconds passed. Eventually, Harry caught on as he looked down to the shorter man.

“What?“ Harry asked. His voice was thick with sleep.

„Nothing,“ Louis replied quickly. He wasn‘t even smiling. But then he was: „Everyone sleep alright then?“ he asked, his gaze fixing on Harry for a moment too long before he offered his gaze to Liam and then to Niall and Zayn, too.

Zayn shrugged. “Yeah alright,“ he offered.

“Fine,“ Liam agreed.

“Not as good as home but I feel like we best get used to it,“ Niall replied with a shrug.

Louis‘ eyes trained back to Harry; he was looking at him quite intently. Even the other three caught on, and watched on in quiet bewilderment.

“What?“ Harry asked again, his brow creasing low in his confusion. He looked to the other two like they knew something he didn‘t. Then, his face fell. Harry lifted his arm up, gesturing slowly with his hand, his index figure pointing up slowly in question. “I did... I did sleep well,“ he trailed off in his signature mumble.

All four men exchanged a confused glance, and all four then looked to Louis for explanation.

Louis didn‘t let up. He simply turned to his now-boiled kettle, picking it up as he fixed himself up a cup of tea. He spoke down as he busied himself in this way: “Well that‘s good,“ was all he said. “Glad we all slept well.“

Confusion still showed on all the boys‘ faces as Louis began sipping innocently at his tea. He looked from Zayn to Niall to Liam and then finally to Harry to whom he offered a stiff but small smile.

Harry‘s face was priceless. He looked both confused and concerned now. And he couldn‘t even ask why. He had an idea but, surely not...

Harry‘s brow lowered again, knitted together in his concern. “How did you sleep?“ he asked in return, almost afraid of the answer.

“Fine,“ Louis answered quickly, _„bunkmate,“_ he added with a wry smile.

“That‘s... good,“ Harry replied slowly, his eyes looking over Louis‘ face for any sign that he might have... He may have...

Looking to his other bandmates, Louis asked a question, changed the subject, left Harry hanging, “Right, what‘s on for this morning then?“ he wanted to know.

And as Zayn gave him the rundown of the morning‘s plan, Harry was left to his own bewilderment, still leaning down against the counter, still with Louis on his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis boldly admits to hearing Harry‘s wank the night before. Harry is therefore distracted in the group meeting going forward.

“See, I bloody hate these,“ Liam lamented openly, picking up a whole pile of mock up magazine covers with their image plastered all over it. Each mock cover was more awful than the last.

“Yeah, it‘s not the best part of the job, let‘s be honest,“ Niall agreed with a shrug as he looked around their press room for the day. Once he spotted the refreshments area, he was happy.

They had a long day of press interviews ahead of them. Thankfully, no official photos. But even still, each one of them were dressed immaculately just in case. 

“Honestly, we‘re not that bad, are we?“ Liam asked as he held up a magazine with their doctored image on it. They all wore matching outfits a la NYSNC or The Backstreet Boys. 

Looking up at the image, Niall shrugged in response. 

“What if we actually are though?“ Zayn wondered aloud as he looked at the photograph on the cover of the magazine. 

Liam looked down at it again too.

“Oh no we‘re not!“ he protested, and then, looking around for Louis and Harry, “Harry, Louis, what do you think?“

Entering the room before Harry, Louis looked to the magazine in Liam’s hand briefly.

“I dunno,“ he offered unhelpfully as he walked past. “Might be.“

Looking back after him, and then forward to Harry again, Liam tried again:

“Harry?“ he almost begged, needing at least someone else on his side here. “We look like bloody waiters or something!“

Harry considered the doctored image of them; they all wore purple suits, standing smartly against a wall together.

Harry shrugged too. “I like the purple,“ he offered unhelpfully.

Liam scoffed and dropped the magazine exasperatedly. “Forget talking to you lot about wardrobe then,“ he frowned.

Then, they were all upstanding as their management followed into the room.

Standing around in a semi circle, the boys stood still, listening carefully as a team of a dozen or so joined in the semi circle.

Among them was Simon Cowell, a few PR representatives, wardrobe, many assistants, and a senior press editor. 

Standing a few feet away from Harry in the semi circle that was supposed to represent them but whom Louis could never remember all their names, Louis stole a few glances to Harry‘s face when he could.

Standing there taller than most, Harry looked very serious, an almost-concerned expression on his face as he listened to their team explain how today‘s PR session would go. He looked ever the professional standing there in such a deeply respectful pose as he listened to his bosses, but mostly Harry was waiting to see what time break was. Having failed to have breakfast that morning, he was hungry now.

When he heard someone mention break was at 10.30, Harry looked down to his wristwatch to see the time. Damn. It was only 8.30. Looking around the large press room, Harry spotted the refreshments table and, slowly, and cheekily, backwards walked himself out of the semi-circle and to the catering table.

Keeping his eyes on his colleagues the whole time, proving he was listening intently still, Harry kept walking backwards, feeling blindly on the long catering table until he found the bananas. Taking one in his hand, he ripped it off the others before walking stealthily back the group, smirking his signature smirk - the one that so innocently popped his dimple - and it made a few members of the group chuckle, smiling and laughing and shaking their heads at Harry‘s silly antics.

But with that smile - and it turned into that grin - Louis knew Harry could get away with almost anything. Like rejoining the group of professionals and slowly but very consciously eating a banana as they all talked, sometimes to him, too.

Rolling his eyes, Louis tried to keep his gaze away from Harry, but like so often, found himself always looking back to Harry, even as many people there were there. Out of the dozen or so people in the group, and Louis was most fixated on Harry.

Not just because of what he‘d heard last night, and not because he‘d wanked again just this morning thinking about him, but because Harry had this pull over him, over anyone.

Lost in his own thoughts of Harry as the group talked around him, Louis made himself look down and at his feet as not to look to Harry too much. Scraping his Vans along the ground in distraction, Louis glanced up when he heard Harry‘s voice contribute to the group talking:

“I have a question,“ Harry said. He was bold enough to still have his banana peel in his hand as he held up his other hand in gesture.

“Yes?“ Simon allowed.

“Can I go have a wee?“ Harry asked kind of quietly.

Sighing and rubbing at his temple, Simon looked to Harry, like, Seriously?

Harry just blinked back. “I‘m not very prepared this morning, sorry,“ he apologised.

Sighing again, Simon pointed out the door and behind him without even looking.

“Out the hall, third door on the right, Harry,“ he sighed. “Quickly, please.“

Harry nodded and made for the door immediately. “Thank you, everybody,“ he said, awkwardly sharing a fleeting glance across the whole group, including Louis.

When their eyes met, Louis felt something spark up in him. And without thinking - 

“Me too,“ Louis added, gesturing lazily to the door after Harry. “Need a piss,“ he added a bit more harshly and a curt nod before he, too, exited.

Liam, Zayn, and Niall all looked on in silence, watching Louis follow after Harry.

Zayn looked to Liam, who shrugged in response, and Niall shrugged in response too.

“Bloody hell,“ Simon sighed. “We haven‘t even started for the day and we‘re already behind, that‘s great, that‘s fantastic.“

Awkwardly, no one answered, and again, Liam, Zayn and Niall all exchanged glances between themselves. They all shrugged. Whatever.

—

In the bathroom, Louis is bolder than he ever thought he could be.

Whereas Harry really did go to the bathroom for a wee, so Harry was shocked and jumped when he exited his bathroom stall to see Louis waiting, back against the wall, a cheeky smirk on his face.

Confused, Harry looks at Louis, cocking an eyebrow. “What...“ he started but didn‘t even finish the question before Louis cut in:

“Heard you wanking last night,“ he told him. He blurted it out. Just had to. Had to see how Harry would respond.

Stalled in the moment, Harry said nothing as he just stared at Louis.

“I - Uh - “ he stammered. And it was the most embarrassed Louis had ever seen Harry.

Dropping his head, Harry winced before looking back up.

“Sorry?“ he offered. And if Louis wasn‘t mistaken, Harry‘s face was a little red.

Eyes stern on Harry, Louis relished looking over the younger‘s face. He looked... He looked...

“You don‘t have to be sorry,“ Louis told him. He stepped off the wall and neared Harry. So confidently. 

How was he so confident? Harry wanted to know as he looked wearily down at the older man, who was now standing right up to him.

In such close proximity to Louis, with their privacy, Harry felt suddenly uncomfortable. What was Louis going to...?

But Louis just smiled at him and said, “Just act like I‘m not there.“

Harry considered this for a few moments as he carefully studied Louis‘ face in front of him, his features and his expression and what it all meant. 

“Can‘t... Can’t do that,“ Harry said slowly. It was an explanation really.

Still staring just right at him, Louis bravely stood there and coaxed the younger one on:

“Can‘t do... what?“ he asked, talking slower, mirroring Harry, letting their moments extend for as long as possible. 

Their eyes were locked in an intense engagement. No one could look away. But no one could take this any longer. Well, Harry couldn‘t.

“You know what I meant,“ Harry said, his words lower than he expected. He let the quiet hang after his words.

But Louis was dubious. He raised his brow bravely. Fuck, he was so cocky when he wanted to be.

“I really don‘t,“ Louis said. “Like I proper don‘t know what you mean mate.“

Standing there, a tension hung between them and stung on every word. It was like each word was harder to say than the next. Or at least, that‘s how pained Harry suddenly looked. He hated it when Louis called him ‘mate‘.

Louis watched him swallow hard. Harry almost looked angry that he had to explain himself more.

“Louis,“ he said to the man in front of him.

“Yes, that‘s my name,“ Louis replied sarcastically, but secretly he clung onto every word Harry was saying, because he was making him say it, and now he had to say it, and he was going to say it to him, and he‘d said his name now in his impossibly low, impossibly intense voice.

Their eyes still locked together, and Louis suddenly realised he was holding his breath.

“Louis,“ Harry tried again. “I can‘t act like you‘re not there when I wank,“ he said matter-of-factly, “because when you - uh - you have been someone that I have... wanked about,“ Harry finished kind of lamely.

Both stunned and impressed by Harry‘s bluntness, Louis eventually nodded, ever impressed with his honesty. His dick felt it too, and in seconds he could feel himself getting hard in his jeans. God damn it. 

“Well,“ Louis said uncomfortably, and that‘s all he said, because now Harry had him at a loss for words. 

Tearing his eyes from Harry‘s impossibly big green eyes, Louis was then the one to need the bathroom stall. Walking away from their bubble of extreme intimacy, Louis let himself have some privacy in the bathroom stall. He heard as Harry washed his hands and left. And Louis was just stuck there, standing in the stall, a little confused at what had just happened, and also, again, aroused.

Sighing, annoyed with himself - seriously, he felt like he was 16 again - Louis put his hand down his pants for the second time that morning, knowing it was the easier option than simply trying to will or distract his erection away for the next few hours. Perhaps too easily, Louis shamelessly had a wank in the bathroom stall. It wasn‘t his proudest moment, but when he was done, he cleaned himself up and made himself look as presentable as he could in the mirror before he left again.

Strolling back out, Louis had now emerged from his wee break a fair few minutes after Harry had returned.

Not looking to meet gazes, Louis kept his head down and dried his hands off on his jeaned thighs as he walked back into meet the group as casually as he could.

Looking unimpressed, Simon followed Louis‘ re-entrance with a heavy glare. 

“Right, well, if we‘re all here, let‘s go on and get started...“ Simon began and he went on, glaring at Louis a few times as he spoke. 

For the most part, Louis could ignore it. But the other gaze that he felt more acutely on him was that of Harry‘s. And Louis didn‘t even need to look up to know Harry would be watching him.

But now, now he was feeling shy. And he‘d been so confident before, he‘d been so in control. Now, again, Harry had the power; he held the reigns.

And when Louis did eventually look up, he straight away met Harry‘s gaze and cursed himself immediately for it. 

“Concentrate,“ Louis said to himself. He should be listening to this meeting. To what was happening. He tuned back into hear:

“- interviews today. That means lots of girl questions, lots of sweet, cute answers, okay boys? Just think sweet, wholesome, nice, something any Mum or Dad would want to hear.“

Nodding along, used to it all, the boys were keen to get the meeting out of the way and get the interviews done and over with. Plus, interviews could be fun sometimes. 

Ever obedient, Harry nodded along with them, his serious-face expression had returned as he listened to their colleagues and bosses. But when he caught Louis‘ gaze again, Harry‘s eyes stopped and he stayed there with him, even if he was across the room.

Looking over Louis, not for the first time, Harry admired the older man‘s presence among the others there. And Louis was looking at him too. And he knew now. And now they both knew. And that was... OK?

On his face, Harry had an expression that asked Louis that very question: is this OK? Are we OK?

Louis nodded in response, wordlessly answering Harry across the room. He shrugged then, too. It is what it is.

Nodding in agreement, Harry didn‘t let his gaze leave Louis‘ until someone in the group looked at him too.

Then Harry looked back down at his feet on the floor, feigning a deep interest in the conversation about how to answer questions when all he wanted to do was make sure he and Louis were okay. This wasn‘t... going to make things weird was it?

And also, Harry wanted to know... How much had Louis heard?

He thought back to the night before to try and self-assess how loud he‘d been, but shrugged off his own noise as pretty standard. He wasn‘t loud... was he?

Again, Harry looked to Louis for an answer, even if he was halfway across the room. 

Louis didn‘t return the gaze, fixated on kicking at the carpet.

Harry frowned. He knew he had a whole day of interviews of them, but suddenly, he was the one with questions. And they were all for Louis.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Harry trying to keep his cool, Louis is increasingly, and purposefully annoying in interviews. But does he push it too far?

“Okay, boys, take a seat, we’re about to start,“ said a very professionally-dressed woman in her 30s.

Shuffling obediently to take a seat, Louis, Liam, Zayn, Niall, and Harry are the picture of young good looking boys as they awkwardly take a seat on the large couch. Liam takes a seat first, then Niall, Harry, and Zayn, with Louis on the end.

“Alright,“ the press lady, Kate, went on. “We all ready then?“

Nods all ‘round and Kate nods and smiles. “Just remember – simple questions, simple answers. You’ll be fine.“

As their first interviewer takes the seat in front them, Kate gives them a grin and two thumbs up for encouragement, a clipboard and a bunch of paperwork under her arm. Harry especially looks like a deer in headlights as the interviewer introduces herself, says where she’s from, and offers them all a warm smile for encouragement. She’s very pretty.

“Hello boys,“ she says. “My name is Jane. I’m from The Daily Mirror. Thank you for your time today.“

“Not a problem,“ Niall replies, ever the gentleman.

“Okay, first question. Now anyone can answer so just jump in. How are we? How’s the tour going? You‘re a few shows in now, right?“

“It’s going great,“ Liam answers diplomatically. “Yeah, ‚we’re only a few shows in but the fans have been incredible so far.“

Nodding, Niall agrees. “Absolutely amazing.“

“And how’s it going for you all? Are you enjoying being on the road?“ Jane asks. She looks to Zayn for an answer.

“Yeah, it’s sick,“ Zayn replies, looking awkwardly to his other bandmates. “A lot of fun, just being on the bus, on the road. It’s like being on a school camp or something, but better.“

Grinning and nodding, Jane continues. “Louis, you’re the oldest. Have you found yourself taking on a fatherly sort of role yet?“

Louis laughs genuinely before he shakes his head. “Absolutely not,“ he replies. “I think I’m the least mature, actually.“

Then, as if to prove himself, he leans forward, leans across Zayn and Harry, and slaps Niall hard on his leg.

“Ow! What was that for?“ Niall’s brow lowers in his confusion as he glares at Louis.

“I think Niall and I are the troublemakers,“ Louis replies simply, leaning back into his seat and offering an amused grin.

The slap and his answer earns a quick glance from Harry, who can’t seem to keep his gaze away if Louis is talking.

“So you’re the ring leader then?“ Jane prompts.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that…“ Louis trails off. “But I do enjoy mucking about. You get bored on that bus. Anywhere, really. You have to make your own fun.“ He shrugs. “Annoying the boys is rather necessary, I think.“

Keeping his eyes straight ahead, Harry is somewhat startled when the next question is directed at him.

“Harry,“ the interviewer starts. “What about you? You’re the youngest — have you found it hard to be away from home?“

Harry makes a small noise of thought – hmmm – before Louis quickly cuts in.

“May I?“ he asks, but he waits for a reply from noone. “I think Harry’s finding it hard. I think we all are. It‘s hard. It‘s new, all of this.“

A wave of horror passes through Harry, but he controls his facial expression as he quickly looks to Louis. Is he serious?

“What do you mean by that?“ asks the interviewer, prompting Louis to go on.

“Well,“ Louis shrugs from the end of the couch. “You’ll have to ask the young lad.“

Looking to Harry, just as Liam, Zayn, Niall and the interviewer do, Louis smiles perfectly happily at Harry to elaborate.

“Erm,“ Harry begins slowly. His eyes are on the ground before he’s looking back up at their interviewer. “I, uh – it can be hard to be away from home. I’m missing my friends and my sister and my parents, definitely.“

Harry’s answer is so diplomatic, so correct, so polished, but underneath, he’s seriously questioning Louis now. He passes another look to Louis. Louis is sitting there looking so comfortably, but shifting every few moments in his seat; he’s full of energy. He’s buzzing. He’s enjoying this.

“Niall, you’re the only Irishman in the group — how has it been for you, getting to explore England and getting to know your English fans, and your English bandmates?“

As Niall answers, Harry’s attention, again, is on Louis as Louis shifts around on the couch, unsettled. He can feel it from two people away. Between them, Zayn notices and glares at Louis openly.

“Mate, would you stop moving about?“ he asks.

His brow lowering like Zayn’s, Louis looks to him, almost offended. “Jeez,“ he replies. “Sorry for trying to get comfortable.“

A few questions later and Louis‘ leg is bobbing up and down, so much so it’s annoyed Zayn again.

“Louis,“ he cuts in. “Stop. That’s so bloody annoying.“

In response, Louis looks up to the other boys, a glance to each one as he points to Zayn next to him.

“Anyone else want to swap seats? This one isn’t having it.“

Rolling his eyes, Zayn stands up and makes Harry, who’s next to him, swap.

With silent trepidation, Harry moves to sit next to Louis. Louis immediately spreads out, shoving his leg into Harry‘s. Harry ignores it, his gaze obediently on their interviewer.

A few more questions in, and the first interview of the day is done. The interviewer thanks them each with a handshake and stands up to leave, the boys staying seated before the next interviewer takes the vacant seat in front of them.

“Two minute break,“ someone says from the small group in front of them.

The boys nod and Louis takes the chance to stretch out. His hands push down his thighs as he leans back in the couch, his head resting on the back of the couch, his crotch pushed out.

Harry can‘t help a quick sideways glance but remains silent until their next interview begins.

“It‘s not bad,“ Louis says to no one in particular. “The interviewing, I mean.“

“Yeah it‘s alright,“ Liam agrees from across the couch. “I just hope we‘re saying the right thing!“

The next person to sit opposite them is an older man who introduces himself as Dan from some magazine none of them had heard of before.

“It‘s a girly magazine, really,“ Dan explains. “Most of our readership are females, aged 11 to 15 or 16 or so. I wouldn‘t expect you to know it,“ he laughs lightly.

“Riiiight,“ Louis replies. He sits himself up more professionally. “That makes sense. Girls like boys... Sometimes.“

His eyes shutting for a moment, Harry silently wonders what Louis thinks he‘s doing. He‘s going to get them all in trouble.

“Speaking of girls,“ the interviewer starts, “Can I ask, do any of you have a girlfriend? Is there even time for that now?“

Still taking the lead, Louis looks boldly to Harry next to him.

“Harry, why don‘t you answer that, you‘re the most popular with the girls.“

Looking embarrassed, Harry glances quickly to Louis - whose face is perfectly neutral - before he‘s looking at their interviewer.

“No, none of us have a girlfriend,“ Harry answers safely.

“Would you like to?“ the interviewer asks.

Harry doesn‘t answer, looking to the others to answer instead.

“Sure,“ Liam replies.

“Having a few girls around would make us less bored, that‘s for sure!“ Niall answers. He‘s genuinely grinning at the idea.

Louis raises his brow. Really, Niall?

“I mean, sometimes it does feel like there‘s too much male company around,“ Liam agrees. “It would be nice to have even some friends who are girls around.“

Shrugging, Louis tosses his fringe to the side. “I dunno Liam,“ he disagrees. “It‘s alright. We see plenty of girls every night in the crowd. I‘m happy with my company. It‘s just us lads, it‘s fun.“

And then: “Right, Harry?“

Becoming more and more on edge, Harry doesn‘t reply to Louis, doesn‘t take the bait. And even though there is no suspicion or concern from the other boys, the interviewer, or their team, Harry is feeling increasingly uncomfortable at Louis‘ boldness. Because of it, he doesn‘t answer another question for the rest of the interview and keeps his gaze straight ahead, trying to ignore the distracting, constantly-moving presence of Louis beside him.

At the interview’s conclusion, Harry glances at his watch. 9.30. Another hour until break. But he can‘t wait.

Putting his hand up as if in a classroom, Harry looks to their staff until someone notices him.

“Yes?“ It‘s Kate, their PR lady.

“Can I‘ve a wee?“ Harry asks. “Sorry,“ he adds to the boys, giving everyone to his right a look of apology. “I must be nervous,“ he tries to explain.

With a nod of permission from Kate, Harry stands up to leave just as their next interviewer sits down. He needs to get away from Louis.

“I‘m sorry,“ Harry offers his apology to the new lady. “I won‘t be a minute.“

With that, Harry walks off to the same bathroom he was in earlier. Once inside, he takes a few minutes to simply be by himself before he can venture back out to their interviews, to face answering any more questions, and Louis.

—

Standing around, making tea and coffee for themselves on their morning break, Harry is decidedly quiet and has been in their last few interviews so far.

“You alright, mate?“ Liam asks with a sideways glance to his bandmate. “Not feeling it today?“

Shrugging, Harry looks to Liam. “Think I‘m just tired,“ he offered. A white lie.

Stirring a sugar into his coffee, Liam nodded. “Fair enough. Hard to be chirpy if you haven‘t slept well. Louis, on the other hand. Swear he‘s had a few coffees or something. He‘s just so... well, keen I suppose? He won‘t shut up.“

That‘s for sure. But Harry didn‘t reply as he finished preparing his tea. He won‘t, can‘t talk about Louis. With his mug in his hand, Harry turns around only to find Louis right behind him.

“Harry,“ Louis says simply in greeting. His mouth is straight but there‘s a smirk in his eyes. He‘s enjoying every moment of this.

His brow lowering without his permission, Harry looked up and down Louis. Dressed in caramel chinos and a plain white v-neck t-shirt, he looked, like the rest of them, good.

Like the rest of them, Louis held a beverage in his hand.

“I hope there‘s no caffeine in that,“ Harry said simply.

Taking a sip of his drink, his eyes over the mug‘s rim to stay on Harry, Louis licked his lips before he replied

“Lots.“

Unable to keep his gaze off Louis, Harry bit the inside of his mouth as a sort of punishment for the way he felt when Louis looked at him like that.

“You‘re very quiet today mate,“ Louis noticed. He stepped just a half-step closer to the younger boy. Harry might be taller, but Louis‘ presence was larger in that moment.

Swallowing his own sip of tea from his mug, Harry tried to return Louis‘ gaze as casually as he could.

“Stop,“ he said simply.

There was a pause as Louis bravely looked deep into Harry‘s eyes.

“Stop what?“ he asked, his eyes wide in earnest.

Harry nodded back in the direction of their interviewing couch.

“That. This. Everything.“

Spreading his legs apart, his stance wider, Louis didn‘t take his eyes off Harry‘s face as he so confidently and casually stood there, mug of tea in his hand. He looked so good. So bold. So...

“I have absolutely no idea what you‘re on about,“ Louis said.

His brow lowering in both his confusion and annoyance, Harry had more to say.

“And don‘t call me ‘mate‘,“ he added. Suddenly, Louis recognised the proper annoyance in Harry‘s voice.

“Why?“ he asked simply.

Harry didn‘t reply.

“Oh,“ Louis fake-realised suddenly as he brought his mug back up to his face. He paused it just under his mouth. “Is this about the other night? How I heard you—“

“Stop,“ Harry cut in. His face grew pink.

“How I heard you... at night,“ Louis finished tactfully. He shrugged, as if it was so casual, as if it didn‘t matter. “It‘s fine, mate. We all do it.“ He was almost laughing.

Harry frowned in response. “Then stop,“ he said. “Don‘t...“ he started again. “Why are you...“

Harry couldn‘t finish his thought, but Louis could.

“It‘s fun, Harry,“ Louis explained. “God it‘s fun winding you up. You‘re worse than Zayn. An easy target.“

Harry didn‘t particularly know what that was supposed to mean, but his gaze had been on Louis for so long that he was now holding his breath.

Realising Harry was proper out of it today, Louis dropped his gaze to the floor as he smoothed his fringe down on his forehead, his hair dangling softly above his eyes.

“Right, I‘ll let you be,“ Louis said. He took a sip of his tea. “I‘ll leave you alone,“ he promised.

 _Don‘t_. But Harry nodded. “Good.“ The younger boy looked like he was in genuine pain.

Hopefully, that would be it.

But when they go back to interviews, Louis doesn‘t relent. Waiting for Harry to take a seat first, he chooses the vacant spot next to him, shuffling purposefully into him as he gets comfortable. Wrapping an arm around the back of the couch casually, his arm grazes the back of Harry‘s neck.

Harry becomes stiff because of it. Goosebumps appear on his arms.

As the next interview begins and Louis confidently answers questions fielded his way - and those that aren‘t - Harry stays quiet, apparently becoming the shy one of the group. He hates that he can feel Louis‘ arm behind him. His skin feels soft. He hates it. But he also misses it when Louis takes his arm back.

The small brushes of touch Louis affords him, the small glances, and the way only they know what they‘re both thinking about... Harry hates that he‘s found himself in a position he never has before: complete submission, unable to control himself, or his own thoughts.

—

“Is this fun for you?“ Harry asks finally. After a long day of interviews - of Louis quite literally pushing himself against Harry at any chance he could - Harry has recollected himself somewhat.

Now, alone in the interview room, the last two to leave, Harry has some questions for Louis. By the look on his face, and the tone in his voice, Louis can immediately tell Harry is not happy with him.

“Well,“ Louis stalls. “Obviously, yeah,“ he replies.

With that, Harry walks out of the room too, clearly annoyed.

Watching him go, Louis looked confused.

“Jesus,“ he says to noone. “Alright mate,“ he says sarcastically.

—

“You alright?“ Zayn asks Harry.

On their tour bus, at their bunks, they‘re packing their bags opposite each other when Zayn turns to Harry behind him. “You sick or something?“

Sorting his things neatly into his duffel bag, Harry returns Zayn‘s glance. “Yeah,“ he said. “Fine.“

Not exactly believing him but not wanting to push it, Zayn shrugs. “Excited to sleep in a real bed tonight?“ he asks, changing the subject. “I know I am.“

That evening, they were staying in a hotel as opposed to sleeping on their tour bus.

“I am actually,“ Harry said, actually happy to have some conversation distract him from his own thoughts.

It didn‘t last long.

Waltzing into the bunk area, Louis appears just as suddenly as he‘d disappeared - even if momentarily - from Harry‘s thoughts.

“Alright, lads?“ he asked.

A blast of rage ignites in Harry, but he does and says nothing, just continues packing his bag without saying anything.

“Good, mate, good,“ Zayn replies.

Harry loses his patience and shoves the last of his clothes in his bag hastily, before quickly leaving the area, leaving quickly, angrily, so much so, even Zayn notices, looks up, and watches him go.

Louis watches him go too.

“What‘s up with him?“ Louis asks. He looks to Zayn.

Shrugging, Zayn keeps packing his bag too. “No idea,“ he replies honestly. “Haven’t seen him like this before, though. He‘s been quiet all day.“

For the first time, Louis feels genuine remorse for making Harry so uncomfortable.

Grabbing his pillow from his bunk, Louis offers Zayn a “see you inside“ before he exits to try and find Harry.

—

Harry has already disembarked their tour bus and is standing with a few members of their staff, waiting to be handed a key to his own hotel room. He‘s eager to get away, to have some alone time.

Liam is standing with him, a backpack at his feet.

“Absolutely that keen for a good night‘s sleep,“ Liam says to Harry, glancing over.

Harry nods silently, then pushes his fringe out of his face. Suddenly, Harry feels his heart beating in his chest.

“Can I... Can I have my key?“ Harry asks the group of staffers around them. He‘s not sure who he‘s meant to ask, who the question is directed to, so he passes his gaze over everyone there.

An assistant hears and, shuffling through the few pairs of hotel keys, finds Harry‘s. “Here,“ she says. “Go in and make yourself comfortable. Keep your phone on you. Tomorrow is another busy one.“

Nodding obediently, Harry took the keys with a polite ‘thank you‘. He turns to Liam.

“Tell the others I‘ve gone to bed?“ he asks.

Liam looks at his watch in response. “It‘s six-thirty,“ he says, somewhat baffled. But when Harry‘s expression doesn‘t change he just shrugs. “Alright, I will,“ he agrees, and then Harry‘s gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Louis share a moment, adding another layer to their already-confusing friendship.

“Where’s Harry?” Niall asks.

He’s just walked up to Liam in the hotel corridor, and with Louis and Zayn not far behind him, they all notice Harry’s missing presence.

Shrugging, Liam tries explaining. “I dunno,” he says. “In his room, I suppose. He said to say good night.”

“Is he alright?” Zayn asks.

Again, another shrug from Liam. “I hope so.”

“Should one of us go after him?” Zayn suggests.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Niall says. “Let’s leave the lad alone. He probably just needs some alone time.”

They all agree, and shrugging it off, head to Zayn’s hotel room to hang out.

—

Lying back on his very own queen-sized bed, Harry is on the phone to his Mum, still in the same clothes they’d more or less dressed him in that morning.

“It‘s just… It‘s getting a bit... weird,“ Harry says. He‘s choosing his words carefully, but he sounds defeated, so his Mum is worried.

From the other end, from back home, Anne replies: “Oh no. In what way? Is there fighting? Who‘s fighting?“

“No,“ came Harry‘s answer. “No fighting. It‘s just... It‘s a bit awkward. I don’t know.“

“Why?“ Anne asks. “What‘s awkward?“

It was then Harry realised there was only so much he could say. There was so much more he didn‘t want to say, or couldn‘t say. There was so much he didn‘t know himself.

“I don‘t know,“ Harry answers again after only a few moments. He’s picking at his lips in thought.

To Anne, he sounds so far away, even further than he is. Because of it, Harry‘s Mum doesn‘t press him, doesn‘t push him.

“Well,“ she finally says. “Don‘t do anything you don‘t want to do, that‘s my advice. And don‘t let anyone ruin your fun! This is meant to be fun, alright.“

Harry nodded. “Yeah,“ he agrees quietly. “Yeah I know.“

“Go do something fun,“ Anne suggests. “Hang out with the boys. Listen to some music. Write something. I want my happy baby back.“

Smiling now at the sound of his Mum‘s voice over the phone, Harry agreed. “Okay. Okay, I‘ll try —“

Suddenly, they’re disturbed by a knock on his door. And then another. From the other side, Harry hears a voice.

“Harry!” it calls. “We‘re having dinner together, if you want to join.“ 

It’s Liam.

“Oh, ah, one second. Liam‘s at the door.“

“Oh,“ came Anne‘s voice. “Go,“ she says. “We‘ll talk later, okay?“

“Okay,“ Harry agrees, nodding, although she can‘t see it. “Love you, bye.”

Once they hang up, Harry gets up from his bed and walks to the hotel room door, opening it for Liam.

“You OK?“ Liam asks immediately. He looks over Harry quickly but with concern, just making sure. “You coming to hang out?“ he asks. “We‘re all in Zayn‘s room, we‘re gonna order pizza.“

Considering the offer, Harry feels conflicted. He wants his own time so badly, but on the other hand, feels he should join his bandmates, especially if everyone was getting together for dinner. Some nights, they did their own thing. Other nights, they wound up together.

“What kind of pizza?“ Harry asks.

It makes Liam grin. 

“Whatever we want!“ he answers. “Gotta love room service. Could really get used to this kind of living, I gotta say.“

Smiling slightly, Harry looks behind him in the room before he looks back to Liam. “Okay,“ he agrees. “Give me a minute.“

“Easy,“ Liam replies, and then he‘s walking down the hall. “We‘re in room 808!“ he calls back down the hall.

A few minutes later, and Harry joins the rest of the band in Zayn‘s room. Walking in, he hates that his gaze now automatically falls on Louis first.

Louis. Stupid goddamn annoying Louis. He was sitting there so easily, so confidently, so happily. Laughing with Niall about something or the other, he has crinkles by his eyes and a genuine grin on his face.

Surprisingly, it softens Harry‘s hard exterior. He feels less tense.

Suddenly aware that Harry‘s eyes are on him, Louis meets the younger‘s gaze across the room, his laughing grin fading into a shy, unsure smile. He tries a hard smile, offering it to Harry in an apologetic sort of way.

Harry shrugs it off, trying a small smile with his raised brows. It‘s OK. It‘s fine, he wanted to say. Can we not do this here?

“Right, who‘s getting what?“ Liam asks around the room as Harry gingerly takes a seat next to Niall on the large bed.

As the boys put their pizza orders in, their chatter turns to what they‘ll watch while they eat.

“We are absolutely not watching another romcom, we’re watching the football,“ Louis argues, looking to Niall. “Right Niall?“ he asks.

“Yep, absolutely, it‘s the premier league, we can‘t miss it,“ Niall replies.

He and Niall both look to Zayn in support.

“Zayn,“ Louis prompts. He offers him a grin and is nodding in encouragement. “Come on, it‘s Leeds versus Liverpool!“

Noting the obvious excitement on Niall and Louis‘ faces, Zayn can‘t say no. “Yeah, alright,“ he agrees.“Football it is then. Sorry, Harry.“

From where he‘s sitting, Harry shrugs, a small smile on his face. The boys settle in, happy Harry’s joined them.

Soon, the pizza arrives, and Liam, Niall, and Louis especially are engrossed in the game. Harry and Zayn end up laughing simply because of the way the others carry on, shouting, cheering, and booing in reaction to the game.

Eventually, the noise gets so loud, Zayn cuts in.

“Oi,“ he tries. “Boys. BOYS. _BOYS_!“

It‘s the last yell that gets their attention and quietens them down.

With Niall and Louis‘ eyes, on him, Zayn looks at them sternly. 

“Shut up or we‘re gonna get thrown out,“ he says matter-of-factly.

Mumbling their replies, Louis and Niall agree unhappily to keep it down. After the game ends, Niall sighs and looks lazily at the others.

“Alright, you two can choose next,“ he offered, looking at Harry and Zayn.

Zayn shrugs lazily in response. “Meh,“ he says. “I don‘t care. Just as long as it‘s not another romcom. Especially one that Harry picks.“

Frowning, Harry looks fake-offended as he looks to Zayn. “Heyyyy,“ he frowns. “That‘s not nice.“

“Sorry Harry,“ Niall says “Gonna have to agree there.“

“So who‘s picking?“ Liam asks, looking to everyone individually.

Suddenly, every single boy‘s gaze drops down to the remote control that‘s lying in the middle of the bed.

Carefully, they all glance around to the other. But Louis is too fast, and plunges for the remote instead, grabbing it victoriously as the others eye each other off.

“Absolutely useless, the lot of you,“ he says. And then he‘s grinning that happy little smile again, Harry can‘t help but notice. It brings a small but immediate smile to his face; his anger and annoyance continuing to fade.

Sitting back down again, Louis sat cross-legged on the bed as he flicked through the hotel TV channels.

Finally, he spots a drama on TV. _When Harry Met Sally_.

“Haha, Harry,“ he says, clearly amused easily as he leaves it on that channel to let the movie keep playing. “Let‘s watch this.“

“What? No,“ came Niall‘s protest.

“You‘re joking,“ says Zayn.

“Absolutely not,“ Liam adds.

Louis turns to look at them all. “What?“ he asks innocently. “It’s a good movie.”

Looking onward to Harry, Louis lets his gaze stay on the younger boy.

“Harry, what‘d‘you think?“ 

He‘s asking in a normal, friendly way. There‘s no teasing or malice or boldness in his voice. 

Harry smiles a bit because of it.“I don’t mind,“ he says honestly. His eyes said _thank you_. 

—

After the film ends, it‘s Niall who announces his departure first. 

“Right lads, I‘m off to bed,“ he says, the credits still rolling.

“Off to have a wank!“ Louis almost yells and the rest of the boys laugh. 

For it, Louis gets a fierce look from Niall; but one that is also embarrassed.

Louis laughs. “I saw you squirm in that deli scene, Niall. Don‘t pretend.”

Standing up defiantly, Niall approaches the door and turns before he leaves. 

“Good night to everyone but Louis, officially the most annoying member of One Direction.“

“I‘m agreeing with that,“ Zayn shrugs. 

Louis is smirking, like he looks proud of himself.

“Yeah, you‘ve been off your head all day,“ Liam agrees.

Shrugging, Louis is still smirking when he replies, “Someone‘s gotta keep the fun alive.“

Laughing genuinely for the first time in what felt like a long time - too long - Harry looks down immediately afterwards, feeling a wave of embarrassment pass over him. Did he laugh too loud?

Looking over to Harry, Louis feels his heart swell at the sound of Harry‘s laugh, and is pleased to see him smiling when he looks over, even if Harry has his head down.

With Niall gone, Zayn looks to Liam, who looks back after staring between Harry and Louis for a moment. He felt like he‘d - they - had just been thrown into a moment between them.

Coughing awkwardly, Liam gets up off the bed too.

“Right, well,“ he starts. “Think I‘m off too, then. Thanks for dinner lads. I‘ll see you lot tomorrow.“

Zayn doesn‘t respond, as he‘s still looking between Louis and Harry. What on earth…?

This time it’s Louis who coughs awkwardly as he gets off the bed.

“Yeah, alright,” he says. He’s dusting himself off. “If you’re off, I’m off too then,” he says before passing a too-quick glance around to the boys. “Night then.”

And with that, Louis is walking out.

Liam offers his goodbyes as well before he, too, leaves the room.

Suddenly, it’s just Harry and him, and Zayn looks over to Harry curiously.

“You alright man?” he asks. “I’m genuinely curious. You seem off, is all.”

Harry made himself smile. He appreciated Zayn’s obvious sincerity, really. And he knew Zayn meant it, if he wanted to talk. But… He just didn’t want to.

“I’m fine,” is all Harry said, but he could convince a new bandmate if he needed to.

“Alright,” Zayn shrugged. “Well, here if ya need someone to talk to. I’ll probably get it.”

Harry highly doubted that. But he nods anyway. “Thanks,” he says simply.

—

Back in his room a half hour later, Louis is feeling something he doesn’t particularly feel very often: guilt.

He’d made Harry so uncomfortable. So unhappy. He’d barely smiled all day, laughing properly only once. He missed the sound; he missed Harry’s laugh, his smile. He missed seeing him happy.

Without thinking about it, Louis decides to send his bandmate a quick text.

_You still up ?_

A few minutes later and - bing - came Harry’s reply.

_Yup._

_Meet me in the hallway ?_ Louis texted back.

They each had their own room on the same floor. Harry’s response came quickly.

 _OK_ he said. It was all he said.

Encouraged, Louis immediately grabs his room key and shoves it in his back pocket with his phone. Smoothing his hair down as he leaves his room, he shuts the door as quietly as he can behind himself.

Stepping out into the hall, Louis waited.

A moment later, and he hears the sound of a door down the hall opening. Then out walks Harry. Tall, long-legged, perfectly-dressed Harry.

Walking up the hall quietly, Harry stops a few feet away from Louis.

“Hello,” Harry says simply. “What are we doing?”

“Hi,” Louis replies. “Harry,” Louis starts, “I need to say, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend or upset you, I -“

“It’s okay,” Harry says simply, earnestly, cutting in with two gentle words.

“I just - I was playing. I was having fun,” Louis went on. “It was stupid though really,” Louis added, shaking his head at himself.

Harry looked down awkwardly at the ground before he looked back up. Right into Louis’ eyes.

“It’s okay,” he said again.

And this time, Louis shuts up. Tension continued to exist between them, as now, only a few feet apart, they were finally alone. After a day of being around so many others - of meeting so many new people - they were finally alone. Louis felt it. Harry felt it, too.

“Well,” Louis tried. “What do you say we forget about this whole thing, go back to normal? Just being friends?”

Bringing his bottom lip into his mouth, Harry just looked at Louis’ face a moment.

“Yeah, friends,” Harry agreed distractedly.

“Uh, by the way,” Louis continued, “Just so you know… I never, you know, told anyone about what happened. None of the guys know…” 

Hearing Louis trail off awkwardly, this time it’s Harry who’s feeling more confident.

“I know,” he replies simply. “I mean, I figured.”

Nodding, Louis hoped he didn’t look as awkward as he felt. “Right…”

Studying Louis’ face carefully, Harry’s gaze moved from Louis’ eyes to his mouth.

In return, Louis rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“You alright?” Louis asked. “Are we… alright?” he wanted to know.

Slow to answer for all the watching he’s doing, Harry eventually brings his gaze back to Louis’ eyes.

“Fine,” was all he said.

Taking a step backwards, Louis accidentally stumbles back into the wall. Steadying himself, he keeps one hand on the wall beside him as Harry continues just staring at him.

“You alright?” Louis asks again, his voice coming out quieter, and deeper, than he’d intended.

Carefully, silently, Harry looks both ways down the hall before he steps forward, stepping after Louis, making up for the space they’d lost and then some.

Glancing down the hall, Louis looks nervous now as he looks back to the curly-haired boy in front of him. 

“Harry, what are you -“ 

But before he can finish, Harry’s stepped further again, closing the distance between them. 

Standing face-to-face, Harry just towers over Louis as he looks down at him. Bringing his hand up, he places a few fingers on Louis’ neck, feeling his skin curiously, his eyes following where his fingertips traced.

His tongue appearing to lick his lips, Louis felt nervous as he watched Harry’s every single move. Time seemed to stand still, because when he suddenly feels Harry’s lips on his neck, Louis simply can’t response. He can’t move, can’t say a word, can’t even make a sound.

Leaning down further, softly, Harry presses his mouth to Louis’ skin. It’s warm, almost hot, and Harry can hear his own heartbeat in his chest as he slowly kisses at Louis’ neck.

Feeling blood rush to his dick, Louis’ eyes flutter closed as he swallows the saliva in his mouth.

“Harry…” he starts, but he doesn’t finish his sentence, doesn’t even know where to start, what to say.

Harry knows what he’s doing. Or at least, he knows what he wants to do, because without hesitation, he opens his mouth and takes a bit of Louis’ skin between his teeth. Then he sucks, just once, before he lets Louis go again. It earns him a noise he hasn’t heard from Louis before: a low sigh; pleasure.

“Harry, I -“ Louis tries again, but Harry stops him in his tracks when he’s suddenly licking down, and then back up Louis’ neck. Nudging Louis’ head to the side, out of his way, Harry then goes for the spot under Louis’ jaw. Kissing him slowly but with a lot of pressure, Harry’s mouth is open, his eyes shut.

Essentially, Harry is making out with Louis’ neck.

And...

“Shit,” is all Louis can manage. “Fuck,” he curses again. “Harry…” His eyes are shut too and then he’s suddenly forgotten where they are. His heart beating fast, Louis opens his eyes and looks down, just to make sure he’s seeing what he’s feeling: yep, Harry is making out with his neck. Harry is so quiet in his conquest. So slick. So confident. And so… right. Everything feels so right. Like he was made to be there, to kiss him like that...

Before he can leave a telling mark, Harry stops and pulls slowly away from the younger boy’s neck. He takes his wet tongue off Louis and lets it return to his mouth, licking his lips on the way.

Harry meets Louis’ gaze as soon as he’s standing upright again, a cunning smile on the corner of his mouth. It’s a smile Louis’ never seen, but one that he could really get used to.

“Not saying I’m against it,” Louis begins carefully, casually trying to steady his breath, “but what was that?”

Shrugging, Harry wipes at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand as he takes a step back from Louis. “Felt like it,” he answered simply. As if it was that simple.

_He felt like it._

“Right…” said Louis, nodding as if that made sense. “So, do you kiss the other boys on the neck too?” he asks.

Smirking, Harry looks down before he’s looking at Louis again.

“No,” he says. “That was the first time,” he added.

“Right,” Louis says again, then clears his throat, suddenly feeling like he can’t talk. Touching at his wet neck, Louis is now the one that looks stunned and confused.

Harry enjoyed the change; their positions of confidence having swapped again.

Looking around them, seemingly reminding themselves of where they were - of who they were - Louis shuffled on the spot awkwardly.

“I think it’s bed time for me,” he says. Never mind the ‘problem’ in his pants that he had to tend to now.

_Can I come too?_

Shrugging once, Harry doesn’t reply with words, just stares intently at Louis. He’s standing so close to him.

“You should get to bed too,” Louis says. “Big day tomorrow, you know.”

Harry nods silently as Louis shuffles away from him and heads awkwardly back for his room. Once inside, he stereotypically leans back against the door in his shock.

 _Shit_ he thought. _Shit, shit, shit._ What on earth had just happened?

Louis could still feel the wetness of Harry’s lips and tongue on his neck, could still feel him breathing against his skin. It made him harder, and then it made him jerk off, right then, right there, against the door, hand on his dick, Harry on his mind.

—

“He _kissed_ you?” Zayn asked, incredulous.

Louis’ eyes are wide and his face straight. 

“Yes,” he says. “Well, my neck. He just… went for it. Dived right in.”

Looking even more confused, Zayn’s brow lowered as he stared back at Louis.

“Your neck? He just kissed your neck?”

“Yes!” Louis replies. “He kissed my neck! Right here!” And then he’s pointing to where Harry was, to where Harry had him.

“So... what... are you like...” Zayn tried, but Louis quickly cut in. 

“No! I mean, I don’t know. Does it matter?”

Zayn shrugged. “No,” he answered honestly. “But, is Harry, you know...?”

Frowning, Louis shook his head. “Forget it...”

”No,” Zayn tried again. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. I was just wondering -“

“Well, I don’t know, is your answer,” said Louis, rather impatient now.

“Alright, alright,” Zayn replied. Then, raising his brow, a small grin crept across his face.

“What?” Louis wanted to know.

“Nothing,” Zayn replied. “I just… I knew there was something going on between you. I didn’t think it was this, though.”

Frowning, Louis gets up as he starts to pace his own hotel room.

“What?” he says. “What do you mean? Is it that obvious?”

Zayn offers a shrug and a nod at the same time. “Kinda, yeah,” he replied. “Like, you were proper off your head today, and Harry was the complete opposite. We thought you’d had a fight...” Zayn trailed off.

“I thought he was upset with me…” Louis said distantly, thinking aloud as he paced his room.

“He was,” Zayn agreed. “But he’s also obviously hot for you,” he added.

Immediately, Louis’ mind is thrown back to hearing Harry jerk off several nights before. And he remembered how he’d joined him. And then, the glances they’d passed, the looks they’d shared. The kiss to his neck…

“I don’t know,” Louis says. “Maybe.”

Looking at Louis, Zayn blinked a few times.

“Mate,” he says. “Would you kiss me, would you kiss my neck?” he asked, trying to make a point.

Louis looked to Zayn’s neck, then back to his eyes.

“Well, if you wanted me to…” he joked with a coy smile.

Both laugh and then Louis is nodding again.

“Alright, alright,” he agrees. Point taken. OK. Maybe Harry _did_ think he was alright… Like _that_.

__

__

His heart beating hard in his chest, Louis swallowed the lump in his throat. He glanced to Zayn with need. “What do I do now?” he wanted to know. He needed to know.

Again, Zayn is unhelpful as he simply just shrugged. “What do you want to do?” he asks simply in return.

 _Push Harry into a wall_ came Louis’ first thought.

“I want to kiss him back, of course,” he replied. “Obviously,” he added. “But I can’t. I don’t want to make this weird. For him, or me, or any of us - the band.” 

Louis looks genuinely worried, concern etched all over his face. Zayn appears remarkably unworried.

“Mate,” Zayn starts. “Louis, he’s already kissed your neck. It’s a bit late for this not to be weird.” He paused in thought. “And anyway,” he shrugs. “These things happen. You’re young. We’re young. It ,ight be weirder if you don’t do anything now actually.

Walking around still, Louis stops at the foot of his bed after a few more paces.

“OK,” he says. “OK - it’s OK. We’ll talk tomorrow. It’ll be OK,” Louis says, and he’s telling himself that as much as he’s trying to convince Zayn.

Standing up to go, Zayn offers him a hand on his back.

“Good luck mate,” he says simply, and then, “I’m off to bed.”

Nodding, Louis is of course distracted as one of his bandmates leaves, a different one almost constantly on his mind.

—

In his hotel room, with one hand on the bed-board behind him and the other on himself, Harry also has Louis on his mind.

Feeling safe and secure enough to have a proper wank without being overheard this time, Harry has turned off his room light and only has the lamp on the bedside table on.

In bed naked - his preferred way of sleeping - Harry’s wank began with recalling the taste, feel, and smell of Louis’ skin. He’d been so close to him. He’d had him in his mouth. He just needed… more.

In his mind, Harry pictured Louis’ head tilted back as he climbed on top of him. Hastily and messily, they’re kissing, and he’s holding Louis’ face between his hands. Bodies pressed together, they’re kissing each other hard, passionately, just like they meant it.

His hand on himself, Harry imagined it was Louis’ hand feeling him up. Holding him, touching him, and then slowly jerking him off.

“Ah,” Harry sighed. “Louis...” He was murmuring under his breath as he jerked himself off a little faster, a little harder. “Louis…”

Before his fantasy even became too sexual - all he had to do was picture Louis sinking down on him, about to go down on him - and Harry knew he was about to come.

“Aaahhh… Oh fuck,” Harry breathed. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…”

Coming into his own hand, his hips bucking upwards, a low moan fell from Harry’s parted lips into the empty hotel room. His sheets were ruined, but for the amount of pleasure coursing through his whole body, it was worth it.

Catching his breath, it wasn’t long before Harry’s chest stopped heaving up and down as he began to breathe more normally.

Looking straight up to the ceiling, Harry couldn’t help but wonder what Louis would do next. After all, it was his move.

—

In his own hotel room, Louis was still wide awake.

What on earth had happened today?

He was still trying to make sense of it, lying there on his bed, unable to sleep. 

He thought of texting Harry - maybe arranging another hallway meeting - but then thought better of it.

“No,” he said aloud to himself. “Tomorrow.” They could talk tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avoiding the obvious becomes increasingly difficult for Harry and Louis. Meanwhile, the other boys are starting to catch on.

Feeling like the 17-year-old he is, Harry has been turned on all day.

But ever the professional, he’d hid it well. Through a long day of interviews, he didn’t let it show. He was polite and courteous to everyone, if not quieter than usual.

But through it all, Harry had other thoughts on his mind. 

And, unless he was imagining things, Louis had been doing everything possible to keep him thinking that way, or at least, thinking about him.

Even at the best of times, Louis was the most distracting, most attention-seeking presence among the five of them - he was always willing to do something silly just to make someone else laugh - but, adding to his usual antics, Louis, Harry was sure, was trying to get him to look at certain parts of him.

Most of it went unnoticed by the others - but Harry could tell what Louis was doing.

The touching of his neck a lot. The way he played with and ruffled his own hair up then smoothed it back down a million times a day.

The way he was flicking his hair out of his pretty blue eyes every 30 seconds.

The way he’d lick at his naturally rose-red lips almost every time he grinned or laughed at something, keeping his lips moist.

The way he had so much energy that he was, quite literally, running around all day.

The way he had a sudden confidence around their team that the others didn’t; like the way he grabbed a football and started kicking it around in their wardrobe room, uncaring of what their staff thought, let alone the consequences if he broke something.

Then there was the way he was getting himself all worked up as he ran around all day, being a total and utter idiot, until he was out of breath and sweating, or until someone in their team told him to stop it or shut it.

Basically, Louis, despite being the eldest, and being three years older than Harry, was acting like a rowdy teenager, like the class clown. It got almost everyone’s attention, and it certainly got Harry’s.

The way Louis would find any small excuse to touch almost everyone he interacted with. The way he touched everyone, but Harry.

Louis was so confident, so at ease with himself. He was answering questions easily, even if sarcastically, meeting new people so confidently, interacting with their staff so easily - he was so confident, grinning all the time, and laughing so easily. He was enjoying it all; he was proper buzzing.

So of course Harry noticed. Of course it got his attention.

It especially got his attention the way Louis would constantly look back to him after whatever antic it was that he’d just pulled. 

Across the day, Louis had slapped Niall, hugged Liam annoyingly multiple tames, pat Zayn on the back for encouragement, then kept his hand on his mid-lower back; he’d even felt up Niall’s biceps as they were all changing, saying ‘not bad’.

Louis, quite simply, was being a right show off, and it was all because of Harry. It made him move with more ease, almost dancing his way through the day, because he knew he had Harry’s eyes trained on him.

All of it, of course, Harry easily overheard or oversaw. All of it was when he was around, and all of it made Harry look over Louis in one way or another.

At different points across the day, Harry looked over every inch of Louis; his gaze lingering on Louis’ neck, his arm, his face, his eyes, his mouth.

And when Louis noticed that, when Louis had Harry’s attention like that, it made butterflies circle around in him. It made Louis smirk, or grin, or smile, and he felt in that moment all his confidence had paid off; he had Harry’s attention. And with it, he could do whatever he wanted.

With it, Louis ‘just’ dared Harry to keep his gaze. Soon, small glances between them turned into longer ones, into lingering gazes.

Even in that, Louis had control again. He’d proven his confidence over Harry’s, he’d been a proper show off and an utter nuisance all day; he was in control again. It was a good feeling; just the day before he’d been made so weak by Harry.

But now, now he was in control again.

And with it, he could do whatever he wanted.

—

Their long day of press and interviews - and a last minute photoshoot - had taken its toll on the five young men, who, by day’s end, were all ready to relax and do nothing more but lie down on the beds and couches in Niall’s hotel room. On the end tables around the room, the leftovers and empty containers from their dinner lay strewn about messily. 

On the large queen-sized bed, Harry lay comfortably next to Zayn. Harry was on his phone, scrolling mindlessly, while Zayn was flicking through TV channels next to him.

On the other bed, Liam was on his own and took up as much space as he wanted, his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

“You know,” he said aloud to no one in particular, “after today, I don’t think there’s anything the fans don’t know about us.”

“Mmm,” is all Zayn says in response, clearly only half listening as he, too, is now scrolling mindlessly on his phone. 

Only a few feet away, Niall is lying on the plush couch, watching TV. He doesn’t even look up when Louis enters the room. 

Louis has returned to the room with a handful of snacks. Dropping them across the empty floor lazily, Louis glances over to Harry and Zayn in the bed before he, too, slumps dramatically onto the plush couch. Right on top of Niall.

“Ey!” Niall shouts, protesting physically, he starts pushing on Louis’ back. “Get off Louis! You’re being so bloody annoying today, I swear.”

Laughing, Louis struggles against Niall to stay on the couch. A scuffle ensues, and it’s Louis, of course, who ends up on the ground.

Picking himself up immediately, Louis pats himself down before scouring the room for his next victim.

Spotting Harry and Zayn, Louis eyes the gap between them and grins. Bounding on over, Louis leaps onto the bed between them, ultimately choosing Zayn to cuddle up to.

“Hi,” Louis says simply. He stretches out on him, his legs spread. “Mind if I…?” he asks, trailing off as he makes himself comfortable between them.

“Ugh,” Zayn rolls his eyes. “Go annoy Liam,” he says. “He’s got a bed to himself!”

Glancing over, Louis looks at Liam. He can see that.

“Nah,” Louis replies. “I wanna annoy you.”

Then, he climbs on top of Zayn, sitting comfortably on his lap, half lying on him, half sitting.

“Oi,” Zayn protests, pushing Louis back off him. “Get off me Louis.”

Sighing, Louis gets off Zayn and off the bed. With a quick glance to Harry - who had been watching his every move - Louis approaches Liam’s bed.

“Oh no,” Liam says simply. “No way. Get lost, Louis, I’m serious,” he says.

So Louis stops at Liam’s bed instead. 

“Come on,” Louis whines, “Nobody wants to have a bit of a cuddle. Don’t you want to have a bit of a cuddle?”

His hands still at the back of his head on the pillow, Liam looks back up to the ceiling lazily as he had been doing just before.

“No way,” he replies. “After today, I’m happy here on my own thanks mate.”

Frowning, Louis looks unhappily from Liam to Niall and then to Zayn, who are all avoiding his gaze.

Louis looks to everyone but Harry for as long as he can, but he can feel Harry’s eyes on him without even looking.

Daring to look over, Louis finally meets Harry’s gaze.

Lovely, quiet, green-eyed Harry.

“You can come here,” Harry obliges him.

Unsure if he was serious or not, Louis tilts his head at Harry. Really? Suddenly, Louis’ heart is racing.

Now, Harry was being the confident one.

Trying to beat him at his own game, Louis holds his head higher, trying to steel more confidence in himself before he walks on over. Then, in the most casual way he could muster considering how he was feeling, he takes a seat on Harry’s lap.

Harry was half lying down, half sitting up against the backboard of the bed. When Louis sits on his lap, Harry puts his arms loosely around Louis’ middle.

The way the soft skin of Harry’s arm felt on him, the way Harry was so gentle, it made Louis stiffen up in Harry’s arms.

 _This was not the plan_.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Louis shuffles awkwardly on Harry, trying to get comfortable.

But when he felt Harry move underneath him, and then felt Harry pressed up against him, Louis’ felt his breath hitch in his throat.

Looking to his side, Louis watched as Harry stretched his hand out to grab his mobile phone. Then, leaning back down, he put his hand casually, softly, on Louis’ thigh, giving him a soft pat.

“Aww,” came Niall’s voice, glancing over to the two of them. “Nice of you to take one for the team, Harry.”

Both Liam and Zayn glanced over too, to see what he was talking about.

Liam laughs in response, while Zayn simply eyes them off with a smirk.

“No problem,” came Harry’s reply as he continued to play on his phone, acting oh so oblivious to the bandmate sitting in his lap.

Sitting in Harry’s lap, Louis, ironically, is unable to feel relaxed, let alone comfortable. So when he feels Harry’s hand start moving up his thigh, that’s when Louis bolts upright and moves to get off Harry and off the bed entirely. 

Standing in the middle of the room, Louis stalls for a moment before awkwardly taking a handful of snacks off the floor. 

“This’ll do,” he says before looking around to the others briefly. “Right, well I’m off then, goodnight,” he says suddenly.

Mumbles of ‘night’ and ‘good night’ are returned and nobody but Harry watches Louis go, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“See you later,” he mumbles, but it’s loud enough that Louis hears it.

Stopping just briefly, Louis turns to look at Harry. One moment, one moment of eye contact, that’s all they have, but it’s enough to get Louis’ heart racing as he shuts the door behind himself.

—

Harry had always been told that he’d simply just know when he wanted to kiss someone; that the feeling would just come over him, and that’s all he’d wanna do.

Several times that day, Harry had felt that way, simply just by looking at Louis.

Throughout the day, Harry had enjoyed many stolen glances to look at, and over Louis’ face. Throughout the day, he’d looked at every feature of Louis’ face: his nose. his eyes, his mouth. (He’d looked at his mouth quite a lot.)

Harry watched him smile, and grin, and yell and shout. He watched Louis be a total and utter idiot, a small smile on his mouth, and then he watched as Louis calmed down and finally shut up, too. No matter what Louis was doing, Harry seemed to have a smile toying on the edge of his mouth, as if he was too afraid to smile properly.

Because of Harry’s fixation on Louis that day - his gaze was so unrelenting - he got a few questioning looks from his bandmates as a result. When Louis looked to him, every time, Harry very casually had looked away, as if his gaze had been on Louis by mistake.

Harry had always been told he’d just know when he wanted to kiss someone, and every time he looked at Louis, he wanted to. And every time Louis looked at him, he wanted to even more.

—

It was past midnight, and despite needing to be up in the morning, Louis was still wide awake.

In his mind, he was replaying every single event of the day. Most importantly, he was replaying everything he’d done to get Harry’s attention, and every glance he’d shared with Harry in return.

Their whole day had been a long courtship: the position of power, of confidence between them had been exchanged many times. And after Louis’ escape from the hotel room, the first to leave, Louis knew it all lay with Harry now.

He’d been ahead all day - so confident, so cocky - but when it came down to it, when Harry had the confidence to hold him, to wrap his arms around him, and when he touched his leg like that… It made Louis come undone.

Feeling like a teenager again, unable to control himself, Louis had begun to get hard sitting in Harry’s lap, and stiff in his arms, he got up and offered his goodbyes, and then he was out the door.

Back in his own hotel room, Louis lay on his bed after a shower, his hair still partly wet, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. 

The amount of times he’d jerked off to Harry, he didn’t want to think about, but realistically, he guessed it now would be at least once per day.

Today, it had been three times - not that he was counting.

In his latest fantasy - as in, just then in the shower - Louis pictured Harry in the shower with him, going down on him like he’d willed for so many times before. It was a very detailed fantasy, with Louis imagining Harry’s wet, pretty mouth all over him.

At this point, Louis wasn’t even embarrassed about his crush, about his many fantasies about Harry. After all, Harry was a good-looking guy. They all were. But Harry… Harry had something else the others didn’t. Actually, he had something most people didn’t. 

And Louis couldn’t quite put his finger on it, couldn’t put a word to it, couldn’t try and explain it if he tried.

All he knew was that when Harry was on his mind, it now always ended up with him getting hard for him. It was both a blessing and a curse for his libido.

Lying in his hotel bed, just as Louis was thinking about Harry again, Louis’ phone dings with a message.

Looking down, but not moving quite enough to get up, Louis feels around blindly by his side for his phone. Bringing it to his face, he sees a text message from Harry.

 _You up ?_ it said.

Harry was clearly mocking the way Louis texted and typed, too.

Writing back quickly, Louis replied with his signature sarcasm:

 _No, I’m sleeping_.

In his hotel room down the hall, Louis’ response earned a smile from Harry. He took a moment before he typed his reply:

_Oh._

_That’s a shame_.

It made Louis smile dumbly; he forced the smile from his face, as if Harry could see it.

 _What do you want then?_ he asked.

Again, Harry replied quickly.

 _Nothing_. he said simply. _I’m bored_.

Ever the smartass, Louis countered:

 _Text a friend?_ he suggested.

Harry frowned at the idea.

 _Ow_ he typed, and then he sent a sad emoji in response. _I thought we were friends_.

 _We’re bandmates_ was Louis’ response. _Colleagues_.

 _Right_ Harry replied, feeling brave. _Colleagues who kiss each other_. 

Harry’s forthrightness makes Louis blush. It takes him a minute to reply, to know what to say.

 _May I remind you_ , he started, _you were the one to kiss me?_

Sitting up and leaning against the head of his bed now, Harry smirked down into his phone. He’s biting his lip.

 _You got me there_.

It made Louis smirk in response.

 _Now, unless there’s something important I can help you with, can I sleep now ?_ Louis asked.

 _Wait_ Harry typed. And then, _I have a question_.

Feeling nervous, his heart beating in his chest as if he were a teenager again, Louis replied diplomatically: _Is it important?_ he wanted to know.

Harry replied quickly, easily: _Very_.

Louis could practically see the innocent look on Harry’s face, the cheeky glint in his eyes.

 _What then?_ Louis pressed.

 _Out of Niall, Zayn, Liam and me_ Harry started. _Fuck marry kill. Go on_.

When Louis read the message, he actually laughed.

 _Important 12am questions_ , he replied.

A moment and then Harry pressed him: _Well?_

Louis considered Harry’s question.

 _Hmmm_ he typed. _I’d sleep with Liam, marry Zayn, and kill noone_.

Rolling his eyes, Harry responded: _You need to kill someone. That’s the game_.

 _Sorry_ , came Louis’ reply. _I’d kill you for being the most annoying then_.

Harry sent another sad emoji in response. 

_You?_ Louis wanted to know. _Fuck marry kill, go on then_.

Harry considered it before he replied:

 _Fuck Niall, marry Liam, kill you for being the most annoying_.

 _That’s genuinely so rude_ Louis replied, fake offended, as he smirked down at his phone. Feeling brave, he went on:

 _So, why Niall?_ he wanted to know.

It was an easy question.

 _Nice arms_ came Harry’s response.

Frowning, Louis looked down at his own. 

_What’s wrong with mine?_ he wanted to know.

Harry’s reply came only a few moments later.

 _Absolutely nothing_ he replied honestly.

 _But…?_ pressed Louis.

 _Go to sleep_ Harry replied simply.

His brow furrowing, Louis typed back quickly: _You texted me first mate!_

 _I know_ Harry smiled over his phone. _It’s fun to annoy you… mate_.

Smiling stupidly to himself, Louis took a moment before he typed his reply.

_Well you better not kill me then - if you want me around so you can annoy me that is..._

But Harry never replied, having let his eyes fall shut, he quickly fell asleep, the light on his bedside table still on.

When he woke up at 4 in the morning, Harry read Louis’ message and then replied apologetically.

 _Sorry, fell asleep_ he said. Then he went for a wee and climbed back in bed again. Grabbing his phone, he thought about it for an extra moment before he replied again.

 _By the way_ , he typed. _You’re old - need your advice. How do you act around someone you can’t stop getting hard for? Figured you’ve had this problem before?_

—

When Louis woke up to his alarm at 7.30, he immediately turned it off just as he checked his phone’s notifications. Reading Harry’s messages, Louis had to do a double-take, rub at his eyes, and then read Harry’s messages all over again.

_What… on earth?_

Looking around his own empty hotel room, Louis looked back down to his phone, and read the messages for a third time.

_How do you act around someone you can’t stop getting hard for? Figured you’ve had this problem before?_

Even though he felt his throat go dry and his dick start to get hard, Louis replied with tact.

 _This about Niall?_ he asked. _Lad’s got some nice arms, I agree_.

 _Well anyway, you’ve got to ignore them_ he went on. _Or just get off_ he added. _I know you know how to do that_.

—

The beeps from his phone wake Harry, and he grabs his phone blindly, bringing it to his face before he’s reading Louis’ messages. He replies rather quickly, surprising them both.

 _This is not about Niall_ he responds. _And it’s hard to ignore them. They’re so bloody loud and annoying_.

Audibly laughing, Louis leaves their text message exchange at that.

Later in the morning, Harry messages him again.

 _Hello?_ he presses.

 _What?_ came Louis’ reply.

 _You didn’t reply_ Harry said simply; Louis could almost hear the frown in Harry’s voice.

 _Yes I did_ Louis replied. _I gave you my best advice: ignore them or jerk off. Ur choice_.

Harry sent another sad emoji in response.

 _It’s not the same_ he replied.

Rolling his eyes, Louis questioned Harry this time: _Not the same as what ?_ he wanted to know.

Harry didn’t reply for a few minutes. When he did, his response made Louis’ blood rush to his face, and to his dick.

 _Not the same as touching you_ Harry wrote.

Louis wanted to throw his phone across the room at that. How dare Harry. How could he - how did he have this confidence? How could he be so honest and straight up say whatever he wanted like that?

It took Louis a while to think of the perfect reply. He didn’t want to encourage Harry, didn’t want to discourage him either.

 _We’ve got wardrobe fittings today_ Louis reminded him. _I’ll see you later_.

Smirking to himself in his hotel room, Harry nodded, even though noone was there.

 _Yes you will_ he replied simply.

And then it was all Louis could do but picture Harry shirtless and in his underwear, changing in their changing room in front of him, having just peeled off his shirt and dropped his pants to the floor, so easily, so confidently. _God damn it_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Harry makes his intentions more and more clear, Louis finds himself becoming more and more unsure, and yet, more and more undone. Liam becomes Louis‘ least-favourite bandmate.

Peeling off his shirt with ease, Harry drops the shirt onto a chair next to him before he’s perusing the rack of clothes in front of him for something else to wear.

They’re in their wardrobe room and from the options available, he picks a crisp, plain white button-up shirt for the day’s activities. He puts it on, buttoning himself up as he looks around to see what Liam, Zayn, Louis, and Niall are wearing. 

Half the boys have their chosen shirts on, while the others haven’t picked their top yet. 

Among them is a shirtless Louis, who, standing in his chinos, is trying to pick a shirt to wear. Harry watches as Louis, predictably, picks a black and white striped shirt off the rack. Pulling the shirt over his head, Louis pats himself down before he looks over to his bandmates. His gaze passes across them all, but lands on Harry in a different way; the two share a moment before Louis looks away again.

Standing tall, Harry’s wearing dark fitted pants; they perfectly compliment his lean but naturally strong legs. His freshly-washed hair curls around his face, and he has a smile on his face, because, Harry knows, he looks good.

Louis knows it too. Unable to help himself, Louis glances back over to have another look. As his gaze moves over Harry, Louis finds himself holding his breath.

Suddenly, Liam’s appeared behind him, his hand clapping Louis on the back.

“Alright?“ Liam asks. “You look a bit lost there, mate.“

Shaking himself out of it, Louis rips his gaze from Harry and then he‘s looking at the floor awkwardly.

“Fine,“ he says, and then makes himself look up at Liam.

Liam’s wearing grey fitted pants and a plaid button-up.

“You look good,“ Louis compliments him, and the distraction works, with Liam grinning in response.

“Yeah, yeah I do,“ Liam agrees with a laugh. 

A few minutes later and all five guys are dressed, almost ready to go. Hair and make-up assistants stand in for a few minutes, finishing them off with professionalism and ease.

“Right,” Niall says with a clap as he walks over to join Louis and Liam. “Ready then boys?” he grins, looking around the wardrobe room to include Harry and Zayn.

As usual, Harry is still fussing with his hair in his mirror. But feeling more or less suited up and ready to go, the five of them look around to each other and nod: with only one more day of press ahead of them and a live performance that evening, they were all looking forward to their well-earned week-long break.

“Let’s do it,” Liam says confidently.

They all nod their agreement, and then they‘re out the door.

—

Maybe Louis was just imagining it, but with each show, Harry was getting more and more confident.

In particular, Harry had started experimenting with sexually suggestive innuendo on-stage. The hand travelling down his own chest as he sung, the licking of his own hand, and the hand on his own crotch, they were all moves the fans noticed immediately, and shrieked wildly in response to. 

Of course, Louis noticed it too. How could he not?

So when Harry entertained another sexual gesture - this time, outright thrusting with both arms and hands by his waist, the screams around the entertainment centre reached deafening levels. 

Looking around to see what all the screaming was about, Zayn, Liam, and Niall all looked to Harry but they had missed it - all they caught was Harry laughing at himself as he bounded across the stage before the next chorus. But Louis, Louis had seen it. 

Forcing his gaze away, Louis tried his absolute very best to ignore Harry.

It was a hard task when Harry decided that that very moment was a great moment to pass behind Louis and touch at his side as he did so.

It was one small touch - one brief moment - but it made Louis‘ breath catch in his throat. Pulling the mic from his face, he regained himself before he was able to sing again. It earned him a look from Harry, who was grinning at him from a few metres away. 

Walking the other way - away from Harry - Louis tried ignoring the familiar feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. This was certainly not the time, nor the place.

Once the song was over, Louis took a moment to rest on the prop couch they had onstage. As good old predictable Liam spoke to the crowd, Louis let himself take a moment to catch his breath, and his thoughts. Grabbing a water bottle from beside the couch, Louis opened it up and took a large gulp. 

Looking across the stage, Harry saw Louis sitting on the couch and very casually walked on over to join him. Standing next to the couch, Harry grabbed a water bottle off the stage floor and put his mic between his legs, holding it between his knees. Opening the bottle up, he mirrored Louis as he took a long gulp, his eyes falling to Louis‘, daring him to meet his gaze.

Unable to look any other way - of course he couldn‘t - Louis watched as Harry swallowed half the water bottle in one go before he closed the bottle and half-threw, half-dropped it onto the couch.

Every movement Harry made, he made with such confidence. So when he grabbed the mic from between his legs and wrapped his hand carefully around it, twisting and feeling his hand around it gently, Louis knew it was no accident.

It was no accident Harry knew Louis was still watching him, too.

It was just a moment, but it made Louis shift uncomfortably on the couch; he spread his legs out, awkwardly tugging at his button-up shirt, as if it could cover his crotch too.

Then, Harry was gone again, half-walking, half-running across the stage to wrap an arm around Liam‘s shoulder as he continued speaking to the crowd. In response, there were screams from the crowd.

“Oh hi,“ Liam said, completely oblivious to what had just happened as he turned his head to greet his bandmate. He put his microphone in Harry‘s face for him to greet the crowd too.

“Hello,“ Harry obliged. Again, screams ensued from the crowd. Clearly a crowd favourite, Harry grinned almost sheepishly. 

Walking across the stage, Louis busied himself with fixing his hair and then patting down his shirt, trying to ignore the youngest member of One Direction completely. He was undoubtedly the only one in that room who did.

—

Offstage, back in their wardrobe room, Louis had changed out of his stage clothes in record time and now wore comfy slacks and a navy hoodie.

Without a word to anyone, he exits their wardrobe room and makes for the black van down in the carpark basement that‘s patiently waiting for them. It‘s their ride back to their hotel, a driver waiting patiently in the front. As Louis approaches the van, he, of course, has two members of security following a few feet behind him. 

The first of the boys to jump in the back of the van, Louis wishes he could just drive himself to their hotel rather than wait on the others or rely on a lift, or security guards, or anyone. Minutes seem like hours and then finally Niall, Liam, Zayn, and Harry turn up and clamber into the van too.

“Jeez, you were in a hurry,“ Niall says to Louis as he climbs in next to him and puts on his seatbelt. 

Louis says nothing as he looks out the window, as if the grey underground carpark is so interesting. 

“You alright?“ Niall asks, but Louis doesn‘t look his way.

“Fine,“ is all he says.

Sitting next to Niall, Zayn reaches over and half-pats, half-slaps Louis on the leg. 

“When we get to the hotel, we can do whatever you want,“ he suggests, obviously picking up on Louis‘ low mood.

Still not affording anyone a glance back, Louis continues staring out the window.

“Thanks,“ he says,“but I think I might just have an early one, you know.“

Frowning, Zayn takes his hand back and meets Niall‘s gaze. They both shrug.

“Mate,“ Liam says from two people away. “What is going on? You‘ve been proper mad all night.“

At this point, the van is moving and they‘re on their way to their hotel.

“And I‘ll be even madder if you keep annoying me,“ Louis retorts, giving Liam a sharp but brief look before he‘s back looking out the window again. He doesn‘t meet anyone else‘s gaze.

Eyes wide and then his brow lowered in his confusion and annoyance, Liam just stares at Louis.

“Jesus…“ he mouths, but that‘s all he says. He doesn‘t want to make things worse.

An awkward silence falls over the group as the van continues on its way to their hotel. 

“Well,“ Niall eventually offers, “I vote for a few beers to celebrate the week off.“

Liam agrees, then makes a joke that Harry can‘t join them, and they all laugh in response. Everyone, that is, but Louis.

Once the van pulls into their next underground carpark, this time at their hotel, Louis pulls back the heavy door and is the first one to exit the vehicle.

Before he can get away, Zayn is running up ahead to catch up with him.

“Hey,“ he says, and Louis actually glances briefly to him as they walk. “Gonna join us for a few beers?“ he asks.

“Nope,“ Louis answers easily in response. “I‘m going to my room and getting the fuck away from Harry,“ he says honestly.

His answer surprises Zayn, who isn‘t quite sure what to say.

“Erm,“ he thinks aloud. “Why? What‘s he done?“

Louis knows he can‘t logically answer that, so he just shrugs. “It doesn‘t matter,“ he says.

Zayn frowns as he jumps in the elevator with him. “Yes it does,“ he counters.“What‘d he do?“

Louis is quiet for a few moments, doesn‘t know quite how to answer. How can he phrase what he‘s feeling, if he doesn‘t even know what he‘s feeling?

“Well anyway,“ Zayn continues, “I don‘t mean to be rude man, but it‘s starting to get obvious is all,“ he warns. “Like the other guys are proper picking up on it, that there‘s something going on.“

“There‘s nothing going on,“ Louis says defiantly, his arms folded defensively as he stares at the elevator doors.

Zayn offers a half-shrug and doesn‘t say anymore, aware he‘s not going to get anywhere with Louis tonight.

“Well... join us for drinks if you feel like it,“ Zayn says lastly, then the doors are opening and Louis is walking off without him.

—

Pulling four beers out of the minibar, Niall passes a beer along to each of his bandmates, save for Louis, who hasn‘t shown up to his hotel room, despite receiving multiple text messages from the boys in encouragement.

Lounging around the bed and couch in Niall‘s room, Zayn, Harry, Liam, and Niall all kick back with a beer, opening it and taking a sip before they‘re all glancing around the room at each other.

There‘s an elephant in the room, and Niall wonders who‘s gonna be the one to bring it up.

“So...“ Liam begins slowly. “Anyone know what the deal is with Louis?“ he asks. “He‘s proper pissed off today.“

Niall shrugs in response, truly the only one who has no idea, while Harry and Zayn exchange a short look. Liam sees the glance between them.

“What?“ he asks.

“I‘m not saying anything,“ Zayn says simply.

Liam looks to Harry then.

“Harry?“ he prompts.

Taking a long sip from his beer, Harry shrugs unhelpfully in response.

“I… I think he might be upset with me,“ he replies honestly, speaking even more slowly than usual. 

“Why?“

It‘s Niall. He‘s looking at Harry with some surprise, but also confusion.

Harry knows he has to lie. Or skirt the truth. Or say something. All eyes are on him.

Instead of answering, Harry gets up off the bed he‘s only just lied down on. Skulling his drink in one go, he sets the empty beer bottle down on the bedside table.

“I‘ll go talk to him,“ he offers, and that‘s all he says before he‘s leaving the room. 

—

In his own room, Louis, too, is lying on his bed. He‘s put the TV on and is half-watching a crime procedural as he nurses a beer in his lap. Beside him he‘s already got two empty bottles.

When a series of knocks sound on the door, Louis rolls his eyes, cursing under his breath.

“Oh Jesus Christ…“ and then, louder, he yells out, “BUSY!“

But the knocks just continue. 

“For fuck‘s sake,“ Louis mutters, and then, louder again, he yells, “I‘m busy! Go away!“

Unrelenting, the knocks are louder this time. So Louis is too, when, now obviously annoyed, he yells out, “Fuck off!“

His brow lowered, standing on the other side of the door, Harry feels annoyed now.

“Louis,“ he says sharply, “Open the door.“

Both surprised and then irritated to hear it was Harry banging on his door, Louis pulls himself up and out of bed, putting his drink down before he makes his way over to answer the door. Unlocking it and pulling it open roughly, he‘s already staring blankly at Harry when their eyes meet.

“What?“ Louis wanted to know. Not even a ‘hi‘.

Automatically, Harry looks into the room after him before looking back to Louis. 

“Can I come in?“ he asks simply.

Standing to block the door, Louis just blinks at him. “Why?“ he asks in return rudely.

“We need to talk,“ Harry says simply, before he‘s looking carefully down both sides of the hallway. 

“No we don‘t,“ Louis answers simply, matter-of-factly.

“Yes… we do,“ replies Harry. Stepping forward, he tries to push gently past Louis into the room, but Louis is steadfast, and doesn‘t let him move an inch.

“No… we don‘t,“ Louis retorts, pushing back on Harry to make sure he stays out.

Annoyed now, Harry steps one step backwards to give Louis some room but looks at him with an unhappy look.

“You‘re just being a dick now,“ he says simply, his brow lowered in his frustration.

Louis shrugged, he didn‘t disagree. He knows it‘s true, he knows Harry’s telling the truth, but he doesn‘t care, doesn‘t have anything else to say either.

Pushing his hair out of his eyes, Harry looks Louis over, a concerned and confused look on his face.

“If I had known you were going to be like this after our, after I…“ Harry trailed off, frowning. “If I knew you were going to make this so weird, I never would have —“

But Louis cuts him off.

“Would you just come in?“ he asks, suddenly impatient as he steps back, holding the door open for Harry.

Hesitating a moment, Harry looks up and down the hallway before he steps into Louis‘ room. Shutting the door carefully and quietly behind himself, Harry turns around to see Louis has already walked off. Following him into the room, Harry looks around gingerly and immediately notices the two empty beer bottles on Louis‘ nightstand. When he looks to Louis, Louis has picked up his third beer and is holding it by his side casually.

“Are you drunk?“ Harry asks naively.

Louis laughs in response. “Come off it,“ he scoffs. “I‘ve had two beers, calm down. What, have you never drank before…?“

Shrugging awkwardly, Harry‘s gaze hits the floor. He‘s lost the confidence he had on stage, that‘s for sure.

“Right, well, what do you want then?“ Louis asks pointedly. He‘s looking at Harry quite intensely.

The dynamic between them had shifted. Now, Harry wasn’t the confident stageman he‘d been before. Now, Louis wasn‘t avoiding him, but looking directly at Harry with a stern gaze.

“I came to see if you were alright,“ was Harry‘s reply. He touched at the back of his neck awkwardly.

Louis shrugs him off. “I’m fine,“ he says simply. And then, “So you can go now, if you want.“

But the way Louis‘ looking at him - the way he won‘t look away from him - makes Harry want to stay. He shakes his head in response, but says nothing.

“What…?“ Louis wonders out loud.

“I don‘t want to,“ Harry tells him simply, honestly. And then he‘s the one who can‘t look away.

As Harry continues to stand awkwardly in the middle of his hotel room, Louis takes a seat on the edge of the bed, taking a swig from his beer in an all-too casual manner. He looks Harry up and down - he looks good - and, blaming the beers he‘s had, feels a sudden longing for physical contact.

“Want a beer?“ Louis asks Harry suddenly, nodding towards the mini bar. “There‘s two left.“ He takes a long sip from the beer in his hand.

Glancing over, Harry looks to the bar fridge but shakes his head. “No,“ he says. “Thanks though.“

Shrugging, Louis offers a “suit yourself“ as he gets up and grabs another beer, finishing the one he already has in his hand.

Then, instead of sitting back down, Louis steps on over to stand next to Harry. Without looking down, he opens his fourth beer and brings it to his face, taking a small swig. As he swallows, his eyes are travelling up and down Harry, and he‘s got a look in his eyes that Harry‘s never seen before.

“What are we doing?“ Louis asks him then. “I mean, really, what is this? You‘re shy all of a sudden?“

Looking confused, Harry‘s glued to the spot, his eyes on Louis. He says nothing, feeling equal parts confused and excited, his heart racing in his chest as Louis steps even closer.

“Harry,“ Louis says simply. He smells like beer.

“Louis...“ Harry replies slowly, still looking uncertain, still looking unsure.

“Don‘t look so scared,“ Louis says, and then he laughs, genuinely, small crinkles forming by his eyes before they disappear again as Louis slowly looks over every inch of Harry‘s face. “Why are you scared?“ he asks.

But Harry just shakes his head. “I - I‘m not,“ he counters, but his voice doesn’t come out strong like he wants it to. He suddenly feels very young standing next to this confident, smirking version of Louis.

“Okay, good,“ came Louis‘ reply, and before he can stop himself or even remind himself of why it‘s a bad idea, he steps forward and kisses Harry on the mouth. His eyes shut, Louis leans into Harry, his beer the only thing in between them.

It takes a moment, but Harry kisses Louis back, lightly at first. He’s confused, but by the way he kisses him back, he‘s curious too. 

Louis is a slow kisser but he leads their kiss with an apparent expertise. Moving his beer from in between them, he pushes up against Harry, chest to chest, leaning into Harry, kissing him a bit harder before he pulls back out to look at him.

Only an inch apart, their mouths both wet, Harry blinks his eyes open to meet Louis‘ gaze to find Louis is already looking at him. His lips parted from their kiss, for a moment, Harry lets himself look at Louis’ - his eyes, the look in his eyes, and then the way Louis’ lips, too, are parted from their kiss. 

There‘s a moment where Louis is unsure what Harry‘s going to do, but then Harry‘s hands are flying to Louis’ face and he’s stumbling forward into him. Harry takes Louis by the mouth desperately, and, stepping forward in his haste, he almost trips and takes Louis down with him.

Catching them both, Louis steadies their balance, a hand on Harry’s side, before he‘s walking backwards, making Harry follow him as they start to kiss with open mouths.

Walking blindly backwards towards the middle of the hotel room, towards where he knew the bed was, Louis drops his beer bottle without care or concern, and it bounces on the floor almost soundlessly, beer spurting onto the carpet as they continue to kiss messily. Louis can smell Harry, he can feel Harry, and now, he can taste Harry too. Both of his hands now free, Louis‘ hands wander over Harry‘s body, roaming blindly before he starts tugging at his shirt desperately. Walking backwards clumsily, Louis pulls at Harry‘s shirt to make him come with him, their mouths never long apart.

Following Louis‘ lead, Harry stumbles forward, his hands reaching for Louis‘ face, taking hold of him with the same urgency he can feel Louis has as he grips and pulls at his shirt. His palms on Louis‘ neck, Harry‘s fingers reach out and touch up and along Louis jaw as they make out, still stumbling forward after Louis as he keeps stepping back away from him.

Finally, Louis feels the mattress of the bed hit the back of his knees and he stops there, sitting down and pulling Harry clumsily down on top of him.

Their mouths never detached for long, Harry falls down onto Louis and, working blind, he clambers on top of his bandmate, a leg either side of him, straddling him on the end of the bed. As they continue to kiss hungrily, Harry can feel Louis‘ soft hands on his face, and he can taste him on his tongue. Unsurprisingly, he tastes like beer. 

Without much concern for later, Louis moves his hands from Harry’s side, feeling desperately up Harry’s body until he reaches his neck. Letting his fingertips feel across Harry‘s skin and Harry‘s neck veins, Harry is the first to make a noise under Louis‘ touch - a sighed, muffled sort of ‘mm‘ in the back of his throat - and it makes Louis smirk into the kiss. 

Shifting underneath him, Louis moves his hands to hold Harry’s face firmly as he deepens their kiss in response. In return, Harry moves a hand into Louis’ hair, his other gripping at Louis‘ hip, half holding him down, and half keeping him up with him.

On the edge of the bed, their kiss has become desperate, with the two of them fighting for dominance. But it’s Louis who wins and takes Harry‘s tongue into his mouth. With an open mouth and one hand on Harry‘s neck, the other, on his shoulder, Louis slows the kiss down as he moves his tongue over Harry‘s bottom lip, grinning when he feels Harry shifting on him, grinding into him as if climbing over him, trying to get closer, trying to get more. 

To Louis‘ surprise, but not to his opposition, it‘s Harry who takes things further and suddenly has his hand between them. It moves south, taking residence on Louis‘ thigh, feeling his leg up before Harry is feeling up Louis’ crotch. But through his pants, all Harry can feel is denim, so he groans, suddenly unhappy and impatient, kissing Louis‘ roughly in return.

Breaking the kiss momentarily, Louis looks down between them to make sure his mind isn‘t deceiving him but nope, yep, that‘s definitely Harry‘s hand between them, desperately trying to feel something that‘s all covered up. 

A smirk on his face turns into a grin and then Louis is pressing his open mouth to Harry‘s again, kissing him as Harry takes his hand away and lowers himself onto Louis instead, rubbing and grinding against him instead. This time, it‘s Louis who groans at the friction, and he can‘t help the erection building uncomfortably in his pants.

Harry can‘t help himself either. Rubbing himself against Louis, he stops and opens his eyes, momentarily looking at Louis‘ face. He looks good. He looks really good, like that. All worked up and desperate and, Harry could tell, turned on.

His lips parted, Louis takes the moment to catch his breath but doesn‘t open his eyes. His tongue appears and wets his lips and then he swallows the saliva in his mouth, a sexy grin appearing on his face.

“Harry…“ Louis tries, but he‘s cut off when he feels the younger boy at his neck. Harry‘s mouth is open, wet, and curious, as he starts licking and sucking the skin of Louis‘ neck. A familiar rising feeling in his stomach comes over him and Louis is tilting his head back. “Oh fuck…“ is all he manages, it‘s all he can say, and then he‘s got his hand in Harry‘s hair, his fingers knotting up in the curls, pushing him down, making him stay there, as if they‘d done this before.

Feeling encouraged, Harry continued down Louis‘ neck slowly, and, ever curious, he moved his hand under Louis’ hoodie and onto the soft skin of his middle, his hand wedged between them, just below Louis‘ navel. Then, without asking, as if he was allowed there, Harry moved his hand down into Louis‘ pants, feeling around both with curiosity and desperation. _Fuck_.

—

“It‘s got to be Barbecue,“ Niall says easily. “It‘s the best flavour by miles.“

Liam shakes his head in response, “Barbecue? No way.“

Now onto their third and fourth beers, discussion between the boys has turned to their favourite crisp flavours as they eat from an assortment of snacks in front of them.

“What about salt and vinegar?“ Zayn asks, looking at both boys before he takes another handful of crisps.

“Absolutely not,“ Liam counters, shaking his head again as he, too, stuffs some more crisps into his mouth. “Plain crisps at least everybody can enjoy. Salt and vinegar, they become a bit much. They leave your mouth on fire.“

Niall laughs at that. “What kind of crisps are you eating mate?“

Liam rolls his eyes at that. “Whatever,“ he says, “At least we can all agree on plain crisps. See, everyone‘s eating them!“

“Yeah, whatever, mate,“ Zayn says, picking up the TV remote to have another look through the channels.

—

Harry’s hand is on his dick. Harry‘s hand. Is on. His dick.

Naturally, Louis‘ eyes open quickly because of it. He was getting hard long before Harry had even touched him - but before he could say anything or even form a coherent thought, Harry had moved his hand to have a firm grip around Louis’ length. In response, Louis‘ head had fallen back and he’d sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as Harry continued to feel him up. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

Pulling himself away from Louis‘ neck, Harry opens his eyes to see the beautiful, pleased but pained look on Louis‘ face. Encouraged, Harry continued on, moving his hand ever so slightly on Louis, a smirk on his face because he can feel Louis getting harder in his hand by the moment. It turns him on, and Harry‘s quiet is broken because of it; he exhales audibly into the hot air between them, a sigh of both disbelief and arousal. 

Writhing underneath him, Louis can feel his heart beating in his throat.

“Harry,“ he breaths, his chest heaving up and down. “What are you doing - What are we doing?“

But he might as well have saved his breath, because Harry doesn‘t reply. Instead, he just moves his hand further down Louis’ length. Without even realising he’s doing it, at the same time, Harry rubs himself against Louis‘ legs underneath him, his own hard-on begging for attention from inside his jeans.

“Harry, stop - stop teasing,“ Louis manages, mumbling his words between sighs. He manages to open his eyes and look down to see where Harry‘s hand disappears into his pants. The sight adds to his arousal and Louis curses - _“fuck“_ \- under his breath.

Nodding his obedience, Harry pulls his hand out of Louis’ pants as he climbs off his lap, earning another groan from Louis, but this time, it‘s one of frustration.

Watching him closely now, Louis bites his lip, waiting with little patience as Harry‘s eyes look over him. Harry‘s pupils are dilated, his eyes fixed on what he wants. But before Louis can even ask him what he‘s doing, Harry gets to his knees, placing a hand on both of Louis‘ legs. As he positions himself between them, Harry lets his hand feel up to Louis‘ waistband, touching him gingerly, curiously, before he‘s pulling Louis‘ slacks down and taking his underwear with them.

Tilting his head back, Louis can‘t help but thrust his hips forward in anticipation. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ His slacks now on the floor by his ankles, Louis holds his breath until he can‘t hold it anymore, just waiting for what‘s coming next.

Not meaning to be the tease that he is, Harry is simply enjoying what he‘s seeing, and doing, and feeling. Running both of his hands up and down Louis‘ naked thighs, Harry licks his lips as he lets his eyes take in the sight before him. Louis is as hard as he possibly could be, his dick pointing slightly upwards in his erection. He‘s not only well-endowed and a pretty pink in colour, but he‘s thicker than Harry would have thought, with pulsing veins feeding his hard-on. Harry feels the same pulsing in his pants, but he wants what he sees in front of him more, his mouth salivating in his anticipation. Louis is so fucking hard. And it‘s all for him.

—

Back in Niall‘s room, Liam looks around to the other boys, suddenly realising that Harry‘s still not back yet.

“Where on earth is he?“ he asks. “He’s bloody taking his time, whatever he’s doing.“

Liam is met with uninterested shrugs in response.

“Dunno,“ Zayn says. “Let me text him,“ he offers. Pulling out his phone, he types a quick message to Harry: _How’s it going? Everything alright?_

“Honestly, I reckon there‘s something going on between them,“ Liam says then, and he gets Niall and Zayn‘s attention because of it. “What, don‘t you?“ he asks.

Shrugging, Niall stretches back on the bed with his third beer, feeling too relaxed, too comfy, and a little too tipsy, to care.

“No idea,“ he replies. “Might be something, might be nothing.“ 

Liam looks to Zayn for his response. “Zayn?“ he asks, prompting him with a raised brow.

“What?“ Zayn asks, almost sounding offended. “You’re looking at me like I know something. I don‘t know anything.“ He‘s fibbing, but the beers he‘s had means he doesn‘t care.

He‘s lying, Liam can tell, but he lets him go this time.

“Mmm…“ Liam trails off, sounding - and looking - unconvinced. Glancing between Zayn and Niall - the two of which look like they could fall asleep where they are - Liam finishes his drink off and puts down the empty beer bottle before he gets up from the couch.

“Right well I‘m gonna go and see what‘s going on,“ he says and with that, he walks across the room and towards the door, stopping with his hand on the door handle. “Let me back in, yeah?“ he asks, looking back to Niall and Zayn, who mumble their half-interested replies in response.

—

Swallowing his own spit, Harry shuffles closer in between Louis‘ legs and puts a leg over both his shoulders. Licking along Louis‘ inner thigh, his eyes are shut and it’s letting him enjoy every other sense just that much more. In response, Louis can‘t help but lift his hips again, physically unable to take much more.

Quiet above him, Louis swallows the lump in his throat, suddenly concerned. Why is Harry taking so long? Does he not want to do this anymore? Louis is worried and he‘s about to tell Harry he doesn‘t have to do this when he feels Harry‘s tongue on the underside of his dick. It‘s pointed and round at first, it’s the tip of his tongue, but as Harry licks up, his tongue flattens, leaving a wide, wet trail of spit as he goes.

“ _Jesus fuck_ ,“ Louis curses lowly, arching his back and lifting his hips up again in response. “Harry you-“ Louis starts, but he‘s cut off as suddenly Harry‘s licking all around him, slowly, curiously, sensually. Along his length and back again, Louis feels Harry‘s warm, wet tongue and he begins whining in response, his rock-hard dick leaking precum in his desperation. 

Opening his eyes, Harry looks briefly up but then, seeing the precum leak down Louis‘ cock, he shuts his eyes as he licks him off clean, working slowly, knowing he had the whole night if he wanted to.

Louis didn‘t have that long. His heart was racing, his head was spinning, and his dick was harder than he‘d ever known it to be, and he needed to be attended to immediately. 

His eyes shut tight, in a state of disbelief, Louis shook his head before biting down hard on his own bottom lip.

“You are such a fucking tease,“ he tells Harry, but Harry doesn‘t reply. “Would you just fucking take me?“ He was almost begging now. He wanted Harry‘s hot, wet mouth on him, all over him, and he wanted it now, but he wasn‘t about to beg for it, not yet.

Taking his tongue off Louis in response, Harry held him down by one hip when Louis lurched up for his attention again. Harry shook his head just slightly, as if Louis could see it.

“‘M‘not,“ he mumbled in response, and then, as if to prove his point, he put his mouth over Louis and slowly but surely, took him inch by inch into his mouth until he wasn‘t gagging, but above him, Louis was.

Surprised, startled, incredibly turned on, and incredibly pleasured by what he felt, Louis let out a low, guttural groan as Harry just kept taking him further and further into his mouth. 

“Ah fuck,“ Louis breathed out and then he was groaning again as he felt Harry’s wet mouth take him deeper down his throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...“

Louis was almost whining above him as Harry easily let his tongue move around every inch of Louis he could get to. Then he was pulling back on him, shamelessly sucking on Louis’ length. With that, he felt Louis’ hand knot in his hair, tugging at his curls, pulling and pushing him in encouragement as he began moving properly up and down on Louis, starting a rhythm he intended to keep.

Bucking his hips up for more, Louis couldn‘t help himself as he squirmed underneath Harry, pushing Harry’s face further down onto his cock. In response, Harry held Louis firmly down with both hands, one on either side, pushing his hips back as he worked to let Louis, again, feel the back of his throat. 

“ _Fuuuuuuck_ ,“ came Louis‘ response, a long whine of utter pleasure before he was practically crying out in response: “What the fuck, what the fuck…?“ He felt incredulous about everything that was going on but he couldn‘t even finish his thought, didn't even know what he could possibly say as Harry‘s mouth neared his pelvis, his length completely taken by Harry‘s mouth.

A series of knocks rattle on the door, but Harry doesn‘t hear them, his ears fine-tuned to the noises Louis was making above him instead. His words had died down, but Louis‘ apparently couldn‘t keep quiet with everything he was feeling, his long exhale turning into short, desperate moans and whines. 

And he told himself he wouldn‘t beg - he wasn‘t the type to beg - but right then, right there, Louis was simply begging him. 

“Harry please,“ he cried, squirming underneath him, unable to contain himself. “Please suck me.“

There are knocks at the door again, but again, Harry doesn‘t hear them, and underneath him, Louis is too far gone to hear anything either as he begs Harry for more: “Please, suck me, please. Fuck, please…“

So Harry does what he‘s told and carefully moves back off Louis‘ length, letting him halfway out of his wet mouth, giving himself some more room before he‘s sucking Louis off, just like he‘d so politely asked for.

“ _Fuck_ ,“ Louis almost growls and then he’s shoving himself upwards, a little too forcefully into Harry‘s face, forcing Harry to push him back down in response.

This time, the knocks on the door are louder, and then there‘s a banging too. 

“LOUIS!“ Liam yells from the other side of the door, impatient and worried at the same time.

Both Harry and Louis‘ eyes snap open in their shock - they both heard him that time. 

Harry moves off Louis, letting him go slowly, before he innocently wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. Louis, still as hard as rock, half sits up, confused and surprised, looking towards the door before he shares a worried glance with Harry.

“ _Shit_ ,“ Louis mutters, and then his heart is racing in his chest for a different reason. “ _Shit!_ “

As Louis scrambles to get up, Harry stands up slowly and pushes his hair innocently out of his face.

Pulling his underwear and slacks back on, all at once uncomfortable, worried, and incredibly annoyed at the timing, Louis‘ heart is racing in his chest as Liam starts banging on the door again.

“ _LOUIS!_ “

“Er - coming!“ Louis yells in response but he makes no effort to move as he looks down at his obvious hard-on, now covered, but not hidden by his slacks. “Shit,“ he says again.

Swapping another glance with Harry - who‘s wiping at his own mouth with his thumb - Louis points to his bathroom and nods in that direction. “In there,“ he mutters, not sure what else to do, and, despite not feeling nearly as worried as Louis does, Harry does as he’s told.

Approaching the hotel room door, Louis pats himself down, licks his lips then wipes his mouth dry, then pats his hair down flat, too. He coughs awkwardly into his hand before he opens the door, taking a deep breath as he does.

“Hi,“ Louis says, exhaling the large breath he‘d just taken in. He forces his eyes to meet Liam‘s, and prays this will all be over soon.

Liam looks over Louis suspiciously. “You OK?“ he asks. “What‘s going on?“

“Yeah, yeah,“ Louis replies, ignoring the second question. He’s trying to sound, and look, casual, but he‘s holding the door most of the way shut, and he‘s standing awkwardly behind it so Liam can‘t see most of him either.

Liam‘s eyes narrow in his suspicion but he nods slowly. “OK, well, is Harry here?“ he wanted to know. “Because he came to check on you and, it‘s been a while…“ he explained, trailing off awkwardly.

Louis feels awkward too. He‘d more or less hidden Harry in his bathroom, so how was he supposed to answer that? Was Harry there or not?

“Erm, he… is,“ answered Louis slowly, looking back into the hotel room behind him. “He‘s… just in the bathroom.“ Well, he wasn‘t lying, was he?

Liam nodded again, slowly still. Why did Louis look so flushed?

“Well, is everything alright?“ he asked. “We started to worry you know.“

Louis tried a casual shrug in response. “Fine,“ he answered, trying to sound as actually-fine as he could. “Yeah fine. We‘re fine. Just… hanging out, you know.“

“Right,“ Liam says with a raised brow. “You sure you‘re alright though?“ he asked. “You look a bit… flushed.“

As if his face wasn‘t red enough already, Louis felt his cheeks burn hot. 

“I uh - May have had a few beers,“ he replied, forcing a laugh. Behind his back, he crossed his fingers, praying Liam would leave it at that and just… leave.

“Right…“ Liam answered again, but by the tone of his voice, Louis could tell he wasn‘t sure whether he believed him or not.

Swallowing awkwardly, Louis knew he needed to wrap this up, and fast.

“Well I‘ll - I‘ll send Harry back to you,“ he promised, and then he was shutting the door. “OK thanks. OK, bye,“ he attempted but Liam‘s hand stuck out quickly in response and stopped him from shutting the door.

“What on earth is going on?“ Liam asked, a little annoyed now that Louis was obviously trying to get rid of him. With his annoyance, he pushed the door back a little too forcefully, pushing Louis back with it. 

With the door now wide open, Louis cringed as he waited for the inevitable.

“Oh… Oh my god,“ Liam says then, because he‘s looked down, and now he knows why Louis was hiding behind the door. “I‘m - I‘m so sorry mate… I‘ll - I‘ll go.“ 

Liam looks like a deer in headlights, his gaze awkwardly searching Louis‘ face, too afraid to look down again. 

Frowning, embarrassed and mortified, Louis nods awkwardly. “Yeah…“ he trails off. “Seriously bad timing, Liam.“

And that‘s when Liam realises. 

“Oh my god,“ he said again. “Harry...? And you?“ he asks, suddenly putting the pieces together in front of Louis.

Cringing through what is by far the most awkward moment of his life, Louis doesn’t reply, neither confirms nor denies it, doesn’t have to. It doesn‘t matter anyway, because judging by the look on Liam‘s face, he‘s not sure who feels worse - Liam, or him.

Ringing his hand around the back of his neck, Liam takes a step back.

“I - Well I had no idea… Obviously...“ he trails off, and then he‘s looking down the hall. “I‘m gonna... go,“ he adds slowly, awkwardly, and with a weird final look over Louis, he frowns a sort of apology without saying the words. “OK, bye.“

And with that, Liam is walking quickly and awkwardly down the hall, back to the relative safety of Niall‘s room.

Shutting the door and locking it, too, Louis feels as if he just might die from embarrassment. Covering his eyes with his hands, he groans loudly in his frustration, certain that that was it, that was the end of the band. _Nice one_.

—

There’s a light knocking on Niall‘s door and it‘s Zayn who gets up to let Liam back in. When he opens the door for him, he notices Liam looks as white as a ghost.

“What?“ Zayn asks, suddenly concerned, but Liam just walks straight in and straight past him, shaking his head in his disbelief.

“I have seen some shit,“ is all he says.

“What?“ Zayn presses again, even more curious now as he lets the door fall shut on its own, following Liam curiously into the hotel room. “Is everything OK?“

Lying down dramatically on the bed, Liam is staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes. No, everything is not OK. He was simply traumatised. Could he use that word? Could he say he was traumatised? Because he felt like he was.

“Would someone get me another beer?“ Liam asks the room. “I need another beer.“

Laughing already, Niall looks to him curiously. “Why, what is it?“ he asks, but he gets up to get Liam another beer. “Last one,“ he says, handing it over.

“Thanks,“ Liam offers flatly, sitting up on the bed to open the drink and have a much-needed swig. Actually, it’s more of a chug. And again, he‘s shaking his head to himself in disbelief.

Standing next to the bed with his arms folded, Zayn looks properly confused now.

“What happened?“ he asks, and looking to Niall, they share a confused glance.

“Honestly,“ said Liam, “You don‘t want to know.“

—

Emerging from the bathroom he‘d been briefly banished too, Harry’s trying to keep an amused smile off his lips, but when he sees the look on Louis‘ face, he can immediately tell Louis finds it a lot less funny than he does.

Harry‘s just looking at him, hasn‘t even said anything, hasn‘t even opened his mouth when Louis cuts in.

“Don‘t,“ he says, warning Harry not to say anything, because he‘s as red as a beetroot and he feels like a total and utter idiot. “I literally want to die right now.“

Harry clears his throat awkwardly, trying to get rid of the smile on the edge of his mouth. “Why?“ he asks. “Do you think he heard us?“

Suddenly, Louis‘ face falls even more. “Oh fucking brilliant, I didn‘t even think of that,“ he says. “That‘s great. That‘s just fucking great.“

“Louis…“ Harry tries, stepping closer to him, but Louis just shakes his head.

“Don‘t,“ he says again. He‘s so mortified, he doesn‘t even want Harry there anymore, can’t even look him in the eye.

But Harry‘s wide green eyes coax his gaze up, and slowly but surely, Louis is looking at him.

“It‘s OK,“ Harry says, his voice softer and quieter than usual. 

Louis‘ brow lowers with that. “It‘s really not but OK,“ he retorts.

Ignoring the sarcasm in his voice, Harry licks absentmindedly at his lips and then shrugs. “OK, it‘s not,“ he agrees, his gaze looking over Louis, noticing the telling bulge in his pants had well and truly disappeared. “But it is a bit funny,“ he says.

Louis looks at Harry like he‘s gone mad. “You must be fucking joking,“ he says. But by the way Harry‘s trying to keep the smile off his face, he can tell he‘s not.

Clearing his throat, Harry runs his hand through his hair, pushing his fringe to the side.

“Well, he‘s not coming back now is he?“ Harry asks pointedly. “So, can I… You know… finish you off?“ he asks, bold and playful at the same time. There‘s a cheeky glint in his eye, and there‘s that smile that won‘t leave his face, even if he wanted it to.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Louis‘ gaze travels over every inch of Harry before landing on his pretty little mouth, the mouth that won‘t stop smiling. Now that he knew what his mouth could do, Louis was much more obliged to say yes to whatever it was that Harry wanted. But first...

“First I need a drink,“ Louis said simply. “And a cigarette,“ he added. “And maybe some porn. And I definitely can never, ever see Liam again... Ever.“

Harry laughed for the first time in a while then. “Well I don‘t know about that,“ he replied, and he‘s heading to the minibar fridge to grab Louis another drink. “But we do have a week off, so, you know, you can ignore him for a week if you‘re lucky.“

Meeting him in the middle of the room, Louis takes the beer from Harry and frowns.

“Fuck,“ he says simply, a new wave of embarrassment and shame coming over him. He‘d never felt so embarrassed in his life. “ _FUCK!_ “ 

Letting Louis take a moment, Harry moves to sit back down on the edge of the bed. He watches in silence as Louis skulls his beer, drinking it all in one go. 

“So…“ Harry says, “What kind of porn?“


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam spills the beans to the rest of the band. Louis is at odds with himself while Harry has a one-track mind.

Niall‘s interested now. Still not interested enough to be bothered sitting up properly, but, beer in hand, he‘s looking at Liam with curiosity. 

“So...?“ he presses. “What‘s going on? They fighting?“

Liam shakes his head. “Nope, definitely not fighting.“

“What then?“ Niall asks. The confusion is written all over his face.

Liam sighs, then he‘s covering his face with his hands. “I can‘t even make myself say it!“

His brow lowered in his annoyance, Zayn’s lost his patience now. “What?“ he asks. “Were they fucking or something?“

Niall‘s head snaps in Zayn‘s direction. “What?“ he questions. “Harry and Louis?“ Then he‘s looking at Liam again, laughing awkwardly. “Surely not... Liam?“

But by the way Liam doesn‘t reply, Niall‘s brow raises slowly in question. 

“Did you see them shagging?!“ he asks, incredulous.

“No, no, no,“ Liam replies quickly, and for a moment Niall is relieved. “No… Well… Not exactly.“

“Mate,“ Zayn cuts in. “Just tell us.“

Sighing again, Liam rubs at his brow, again covering his eyes with his hand. 

“I don‘t know what they were doing, but they were definitely doing… something,“ he finally says. And then he‘s looking from Niall‘s face to Zayn‘s and back again. “So I walk in to see if Harry‘s still there, right, and Louis says, yeah, he‘s in the bathroom, and that‘s when I notice…“

But Liam trails off, leaving it there.

“Notice what…?“ Niall prompts, holding his beer at his mouth.

“Oh don‘t make me say it,“ Liam groans, cringing at the mental image in his head. 

“Hickeys?“ Niall guesses.

“No,“ Liam shakes his head.

“Used condoms?“ Zayn asks, and Liam and Niall both give him a look.

“What? No!“ answers Liam quickly. “And… ew.“

Zayn shrugs casually. “Well what then?“ he wants to know.

Putting his drink down, Liam lies back down on the bed with a dramatic sigh.

“I saw… I saw Louis‘... He answered the door and I saw he was, you know, proper hard,“ he eventually uttered, cringing again just saying it.

Niall laughs loudly at that. “No way!“ he cries. “Louis was naked?!“

Looking across to him, Liam gives Niall a blank look. “Yeah, he answered the door just completely naked Niall.“ He rolls his eyes. “No, he wasn‘t naked. But it was just… obvious, you know?“

As Niall laughed again - apparently, this was hilarious - Liam just stared blankly up at the ceiling.

“It‘s not funny,“ he says, but when he looks across to Zayn, even Zayn has a smirk on his face. “It‘s not funny!“ Liam says again.

But Zayn laughs too. “It is kind of funny,“ he says honestly. And then Niall‘s laughing again too.

“Yeah, okay, next time you go and you see how funny you think it is,“ Liam suggests. 

But it just makes Niall laugh even harder. “Liam,“ he says, “the look on your face when you walked in was absolutely priceless.“

Rolling his eyes, Liam rests the back of his head on his hands. “I knew I shouldn‘t have told you,“ he muttered.

“Nah,“ Zayn disagrees. “We needed to know.“

“Yeah, I‘m sure Louis and Harry just _love_ that we all know now,“ Liam replies sarcastically. “This is just great for the band.“

Shrugging, Niall is lying back comfortably on the bed again. “Ah well,“ he says easily. “These things happen.“ And then he‘s sipping at his beer again, looking as comfortable as he possibly could.

Liam looks absolutely dumbfounded. “ _These things happen?_ “ he repeats, sitting up on the bed once again.

“What?“ Niall asks him with a lazy shrug. “It‘s none of our business what Harry and Louis do, is it? And anyway, what can we do about it? Nothing.“ 

“Well actually,“ Liam interjects, “it is our business when we‘re all in the same band.“

“Mate, calm down, it‘s one shag,“ Niall argues. “And anyway - why do you care so much? What are you, anti-gay or something?“

“Yeah, that‘s homophobic,“ Zayn adds. 

Liam narrowed his eyes at that. “What? No!“ he answered quickly. “No! I‘m not!“

Niall shrugs. “Alright, good, so there‘s no problem then.“ And then he‘s sipping at his beer again.

Looking more confused than before, Liam looks from Niall to Zayn and back to Niall again. 

“Come on,“ he tries again. “Lads - all I‘m saying is, this could be bad for us all. Like, really bad. Can you not see that?“

Fed up with all the talking, Niall shrugs Liam off lazily. “Eh, honestly, I think you‘re overthinking this.“

Shrugging in his agreement, Zayn gives Liam an apologetic look. “Let‘s leave it, eh?“ he suggests.

Looking from Zayn to Niall and back again, Liam feels as if it‘s a lost cause. 

“Yeah okay, whatever,“ he mumbles. But by the look on Liam‘s face, Zayn can tell Liam is still worried. 

As he lies back on the bed, Liam stares with confusion and concern up at the ceiling. As soon as he possibly could, he _needs_ to speak with Louis. _Without_ Harry, Niall, or Zayn around, that is.

—

Back in his hotel room, Louis is looking at Harry with a look that says, _Really?_ Because, _Really?_

“I was joking about the porn by the way,“ he says, not even a hint of a smile on his face anymore.

Only a few feet away, Harry‘s the complete opposite. With a cheeky smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, he‘s approaching Louis one small but confident step at a time.

“Harry,“ Louis warns. “Don‘t,“ he says.“Whatever you‘re going to do, don‘t. _Do not_.“

But Harry just takes another step towards him.

“I‘m serious,“ Louis adds, and there‘s just the smallest bit of fear on his face as his eyes dart with concern over Harry.

Harry‘s still almost-smiling. He takes another few steps forward, and then he‘s standing right in front of his company. His eyes don‘t leave Louis‘ and it‘s enough to make Louis feel a bit faint.

“Harry,“ Louis says again, but his voice doesn‘t come out so sure this time. “What are you doing?“ he asks, but his eyes are on Harry‘s wet lips and the way his dimples are showing even though he‘s not even properly smiling yet.

“What?“ Harry asks simply in return, feigning innocence. The pupils in his eyes are blown; Louis thinks he looks crazed, wild. “I‘m not doing anything,“ he protests. 

In response, Louis‘ gaze drops down to their feet, now only inches apart. In his chest, his heart is racing. “You are,“ he says. “You know you are, you‘re-“

But Harry cuts him off: “Kiss me back,“ he mumbles. It’s all he says. It‘s all he wants. It‘s all he‘s willing to talk about.

And then Harry‘s closed the gap between them, kissing Louis on the mouth again. This time, when he feels Louis’ lips on his, Harry opens his mouth immediately, letting his tongue part Louis’ lips too.

Louis doesn’t need the encouragement; doesn‘t need Harry to tell him what to do. It just takes him a moment. A delayed reaction, his eyes shut, Louis parts his lips and he lets Harry kiss him again, a little deeper this time.

With both of his hands moving to hold Louis’ face, Harry steps forward, it’s the last step between them and then they‘re touching. Legs intertwined, chest-to-chest, they both stand still, kissing slowly until Harry‘s nudging him forward, walking Louis backwards again until they hit a wall. 

His back against the wall, Louis lets Harry continue to be in charge, doesn‘t even try to change the way they‘re kissing. Bringing a hand up into Harry‘s hair, Louis’ other hand begins to feel curiously along Harry‘s belt, tugging at it, at him, to keep him close. It makes Harry smile and then grin into their kiss. _Good_. In return, he has another proposition.

Pulling away from their wet kiss and opening his eyes, Harry doesn‘t wait for Louis to open his before he‘s on his knees in front of him, his hands trailing down both sides of Louis as he goes.

“Harry, come on, stop,“ Louis tries protesting, but he can feel Harry‘s big, warm hands on his sides, on his thighs, on his ass and it‘s everything he‘d ever imagined it to be.

Harry affords Louis a glance by looking upwards but he finds Louis‘ eyes are still shut, his head tilted back just so. 

“Harry,“ Louis tries again, and he’s whispering because he can barely breathe. “What are you doing?“ he asks. “What the fuck are we doing?“

On his knees in front of him, Harry keeps his eyes on Louis‘ face, his fingers tracing slowly around Louis‘ waistband. “Nothing anyone needs to know about,“ he replies, his voice a low mumble. 

Louis actually laughs at that. “I think it‘s too late for that,“ he says, as if they needed any reminding. 

“Hmm…“ is all Harry offers in response, and then he‘s mumbling against the fabric of Louis‘ sweatpants. He moves from Louis‘ inner thigh to push his nose and mouth into his crotch, his mouth agape. Then, just because he can, he takes some fabric in his mouth and then lets it go again. 

“ _Harry_ ,“ Louis almost hisses, “stop!“ But his body is betraying him; his hands have found their way into Harry‘s soft curls, and he‘s pulling at him for more; in his pants, he‘s getting hard, he can feel it, and he knows Harry can feel it too.

Grinning against Louis‘ bulge, his eyes shut to the magic of it all, Harry traces his bottom lip against Louis before he‘s licking over and around him curiously. He can only taste the fabric of Louis’ sweatpants, but Harry stays where he is, almost biting into Louis as he feels him get harder by the moment.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Louis lets himself breathe out slowly before he opens his eyes and looks down at the boy on his knees in front of him. 

“Harry, I swear to god…“ he starts, but he doesn‘t finish, because then Harry is pulling his sweats down and he‘s looking up at him so innocently as he does it.

“Can I?“ Harry asks, his tongue appearing to lick over his own lips, it stays hovering there in anticipation.

“Harry,“ Louis tries again. “Fuck.“ He shakes his head. Because he‘s trying, he really is. He‘s trying really hard to pull himself together. He‘s trying to say no. To walk away. To go for that cigarette, and to tell Harry to go, too. But then he can feel Harry‘s hands on his legs, on his thighs, and he can feel Harry’s breath only inches away from his dick.

Almost embarrassed by how hard he is, Louis looks down at himself only to find Harry‘s eyes on him, still. And _fuck_ , he looks so good just looking up at him like that. And _fuck_ , he’s so patient. 

His head tilted to one side, Harry is looking up through his eyelashes at Louis. In his own pants, he‘s hard at just the idea of sucking Louis off; he wants to taste him again, feel him again, and finally, make him come.

“Lou?“ Harry asks, and then Louis‘ head is back against the wall.

“I can‘t…“ Louis groans, but his hands are twisting tighter in Harry‘s hair and then he‘s nodding. “OK,“ he breathes. “OK.“

It‘s all Harry needs to hear and with a final lick of his lips, he takes Louis in his mouth again. With one hand on Louis‘ hip and the other on Louis’ thigh, Harry pushes Louis against the wall as he takes him further into his mouth. In response, he hears Louis groan above him.

Moving his hand in Harry’s hair and knotting his fingers in tightly, Louis can‘t help himself as he simultaneously pulls at Harry‘s hair and shoves him further down on him.

Taking Louis as far as he can manage in that moment, Harry immediately moves back on him, letting Louis fall out of his mouth completely. For a moment, he opens his eyes and just stares at him: the pink of his head, the veins that line him and then disappear; the way he curves just slightly upwards.

Above him, Harry hears Louis whine in his impatience, so Harry immediately takes him back in his mouth, and then he‘s started a rhythm on him. Up and down, up and down, up and down, until he can hear Louis start to crumble underneath him.

Shoving Harry‘s head further down - as if he was going anywhere - Louis can‘t help himself but whine and writhe around and beg under the feeling of Harry‘s lips, mouth, and tongue.

“Please,“ he breathes. “Don‘t stop. Don‘t stop. Just there. Just there.“

Swallowing hard, Louis shuts his eyes again and tilts his head back as he feels Harry take him just a bit further again. Louis could feel his own dick pulsing in his own arousal, like it had its own heartbeat, and then all around it, he could feel Harry‘s mouth.

“Please, please, please,“ Louis is begging, but he has everything he wants. 

Keeping the rhythm he‘d started, Harry’s hands move onto Louis‘ leg and ass, holding him firmly as he sucks Louis off. When he hears a groan sound at the back of Louis‘ throat, Harry lets Louis deeper into his mouth still, a reward for the sound he was making.

Feeling himself in the back of Harry‘s throat, Louis lets out a low moan before he’s bucking his hips into Harry‘s face. Once upon a time, he had grand plans of fucking Harry, but now, now he knew he wouldn‘t last.

“I‘m gonna - I‘m gonna come,“ Louis warns Harry, half pulling Harry off his dick in preparation. 

But with a forceful push forward, shoving him back into the wall, Harry swallows the length he’d just lost and keeps going, enjoying every inch of Louis in his mouth.

The gesture made Louis weak; Harry wanted him to come in his mouth.

“ _Fuck_ ,“ was all Louis could say in response, groaning as he tilted his head back again in pleasure. Harry was taking him deeper, and he could hardly deal with it. Unable to help himself, Louis began rocking his hips to meet Harry‘s rhythm, sighing and then moaning each time he hit the back of Harry‘s throat: “Fuck… fuck... fuck... fuck...“

As he sped up, Louis almost wanted to apologise for how hard he was fucking Harry‘s face, but Harry‘s mouth and throat just kept obliging him. Sighing with each thrust, Louis’ moans quickly fell together as he started to feel himself come undone: “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.“

Tightening his grip on Louis‘ thigh and hip and forcing him back against the wall, the string of moaned curse words that fell from Louis‘ mouth was like music to Harry‘s ears. First they were barely audible sighs, then Louis was groaning his curse words in response, then moaning them in pleasure, and now, now he was crying out helplessly as he got closer and closer to coming: “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.“

Knotting his fingers desperately in Harry‘s hair, Louis‘ whole body stiffened as he felt a familiar feeling begin to wash over him.

“ _Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_ ,“ he half-cried, half-whined, shoving Harry further down on him a final time because then he was coming, and he couldn‘t help how hard he came, and how much, couldn‘t do anything but whine and cry his way through it, completely helpless under Harry‘s mouth, pushed against the wall by Harry‘s hands.

For as hard and as much as Louis came, Harry had to try even harder to stay where he was, not letting him go, even when his mouth was full. Swallowing obediently, he only let Louis out of his mouth when he couldn‘t take it anymore; he needed to breathe. Letting Louis go slowly, Harry breathed in through his nose while he worked to lick the cum off Louis’ cock, and then, off his own mouth. Taking his hand from Louis‘ hip, Harry wipes the cum off the side of his own face and then licks his fingers clean, waiting for Louis to look down before he does it; he wants him to see him do it; wants him to see him want to do it.

Looking down at Harry, Louis almost looks embarrassed. In fact, he was embarrassed. By how hard he came, by how much he‘d come, and by the way he‘d begged and carried on, too. It felt good, it felt so good, but he felt so… dirty. Because of it all, his cheeks were burning red.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Louis shook his head and then tugged at Harry‘s hair, this time, pulling upwards for him to come back up.

Ever obedient, Harry got up from his knees, standing tall next to Louis again. A pleased smirk on his face, he wipes his face and mouth with the back of his hand again and is then licking his lips.

“You‘re very loud,“ Harry told him simply, a smile still playing on the edge of his mouth.

Groaning, Louis shut his eyes tight, feeling mortified all over again.

“I don‘t know what to say to that,“ he replied honestly between breaths. Then he was bending down just slightly to pull his pants back up. He was still trying to catch his breath when he added, “I need to lie down.“

Harry watched Louis walk around him and head for his bed, lying down with a long exhale and then a yawn. From where he was, Louis looked over to Harry before he added: “I‘m unsure on the etiquette here but… do whatever you want.“

Harry‘s gaze fell all over Louis, but he ends up staring at his feet.

“Might go to my room then,“ he said. “It‘s getting late.“

Louis just nods; rubbing at his eyes with that. “Yeah,“ he agrees. “Yeah it is.“

And before he could even think of anything else to say, he hears his hotel room door click open and then click shut. Opening his eyes again, Louis‘ surprised to see Harry‘s already gone. 

“Alright…“ he said out loud to no one, secretly hoping things between them wouldn‘t be weird now.

After a quick shower, Louis grabs his phone and sends Harry a quick message to make sure.

 _So that was… something,_ he texted. What else could he say? What else was there to say?

Harry‘s reply came barely a minute later.

 _Amazing?_ Harry suggested. _Earth-shattering?_

Louis smirked but wrote back simply. _It was adequate, I‘d say_.

In his own bed, Harry felt a tad offended. _I almost choked on you,_ he replied. _I could have died - so that better have been the best blow-job you‘ve ever had._

 _Hmmm_ , came Louis‘ reply. _Top 3 for sure._

Harry‘s brow lowered at that. _Top 3?? What‘d I do wrong??_

_Nothing_ , Louis replied. _But stay and let me return the favour next time._

A smile pulled on Harry‘s mouth. _Next time?_ he asked.

 _I mean, if you want_ , Louis added.

Harry‘s reply took a few minutes to come in, but when it did, it made Louis grin like an idiot: 

_Always,_ he said simply.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the start of their week off, but the boys feel bored with nothing much to do. Liam tries to get to the bottom of what’s going on between Harry and Louis, without much luck.

“We could go bowling?” Niall suggests.

“Nah,” Liam replies, “too obvious.”

“Swimming?“ Niall asks. “We could wear those swimming hats and goggles. It‘d be hard to recognise us then.”

“Hmm, too cold,” Liam counters.

There‘s a pause while he thinks and then, “Ever driven a dune buggy?” Niall asks. “We could go ride dune buggies.”

At that, Liam looks with serious confusion to Niall, who‘s casually throwing a tennis ball up in the air and catching it again.

“What?” Liam asks. He‘s lying casually on a couch opposite his bandmate, his arms crossed against his chest. “Where, Niall? Where are we going to ride dune buggies?”

Niall shrugs unhelpfully. “I dunno,” he says. “Around. Just an idea.” Then he‘s throwing the ball up in the air again.

Liam’s brow is still lowered in his confusion. “Mate, there‘s going to be nowhere around here where we can ride dune buggies, I‘m telling you.”

At that, Niall catches the ball one last time, then drops it next to him before he‘s pulling out his phone. He types in _dune buggies london_ into Google, his face lighting up in response.

“Ha! See! Plenty of results,” he says, and then he‘s listing off the results for Liam to hear.

“Mate, mate,” Liam cuts in. “We‘re not riding dune buggies. There‘s absolutely no way they‘d let us.”

Frowning, Niall shuts his phone off then shoves it back in his pocket. 

“We‘re not allowed any fun, I swear,” he says, grumbling the words with a sour look on his face. “Anyway, I bet Louis would do it. Where is he, by the way?”

With that, Niall is looking around from where he lay. They‘re in Louis’ room, after all. Scooting up on the couch, Niall shouts out for him:

“LOUIS? LOUIS!”

When he hears nothing in return, Niall gets up from the couch. He does a quick search of the room, popping his head into the bathroom too, but comes up empty-handed.

Standing in the middle of the room, his hands on his hips, Niall looks confused.

“Where‘s he gone?” he asks, and he‘s looking at Liam for an answer but Liam just shrugs.

“Dunno,” Liam says, but he‘s not looking up anymore, instead looking down at his phone in his hand. “Maybe he’s gone out for a smoke,” he suggests as he scrolls through Twitter absent-mindedly. 

Clicking his fingers, Niall walks over to the hotel room balcony, moving the heavy curtains to look out for Louis, but again, he‘s not there.

“Bloody hell,” Niall mutters. “Why is he always disappearing?” he asks but he‘s not really talking to anyone, much less Liam.

Liam doesn‘t reply, absorbed in his phone as Niall returns to his couch and half jumps, half falls back down. A moment later and he’s throwing the ball again.

“Anyway,” Niall continues, “I vote dune buggies. And I know Louis would too. Zayn and Harry? They’d do it, I reckon.”

Not even looking up from his phone anymore, Liam replies easily: “Mate, we‘re not going to be able to go ride dune buggies, just leave it.”

“Why?” Niall asks, and he‘s protesting seriously now. “We‘d wear helmets. We‘d just be a few guys having a go, we could be anyone.”

Liam looks up at that, giving Niall a blank look. “Mate I‘m not the one you need to argue with here,” he says simply. “Take it up with management if you‘re serious about this. I‘m not saying I don‘t want to go - I would definitely go - but I am saying, there‘s no way it‘s going to happen, that’s all.”

Throwing the tennis ball a little harder in his frustration, Niall knows Liam is right. There is and was no way management would let them do anything even remotely dangerous, like, for example, driving dune buggies. For their week-long break, they‘d already been instructed the standard no alcohol (at least publicly) rule, and absolutely no drugs, public, private, or otherwise. That, and the strictly no partying or no dangerous activities rules meant… no fun, essentially.

Frowning still, Niall held the tennis ball in his hand, squishing it firmly, as if it were a stress ball. 

“OK, fine, no dune buggies,” he relented. He looked to Liam then, catching his gaze, his brow raised hopefully. “What about go-karts?”

—

Tapping the ash off his cigarette, Louis looked out into the night. Beside him, his phone was on loudspeaker. His cigarette in his right hand, Louis started biting at the fingernail of his thumb. On the other end of the phone was his Mum, chatting away excitedly.

Louis was only half listening. He was waiting for his Mum to finish, because he had a question for her. It was something he couldn‘t quite ask of his friends back home, or his siblings, and he certainly couldn’t ask his bandmates. So he waited. And when a natural lull in conversation occurred, he spoke up.

“Mum?” Louis said, and it came out as sort of a question. “I actually need to ask you something.” He brought his cigarette to his mouth, taking a slow, thoughtful drag.

“Oh?” came his mother‘s voice. “What is it?” she asked. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis said, exhaling smoke on the same breath. “Need your opinion is all.“ Then he‘s biting at his thumbnail again.

There was a pause as neither Louis nor his mother said anything. Finally, Louis’ Mum prompted him: “Well,” she said. “Go on then.”

Nodding, Louis looked up as he thought about it. How could he phrase this?

“With me and the band,” he started slowly. “Do you think it‘s a bad idea if I…” he trailed off. “Like, what if I were to become… involved with someone?” he asked.

God, he hated saying it like that. And Louis’ Mum thought he‘d go on, that he’d say more, but he didn‘t, he just left it at that.

“Involved with someone?” Johannah asked. Even from what felt like a million miles away, she sounded confused. “What do you mean?”

Finishing his cigarette with one final inhale, Louis tilted his head up and back, exhaling as he tried to think of a response. 

“You know,” is all he could come up with. And then he‘s stubbing his cigarette out on the step next to him. “You know, involved like… _you know_.”

Louis couldn‘t say it. So Johannah did. 

“What, like shagging?” she asked bluntly. 

“Ugh, Mum,” Louis replied, a cringe in his voice, but his mum could tell that‘s what he meant.

“ _What?_ ” Johannah asked. “I’m just checking! And anyway… How ‘involved’ are we talking here?” And then, with curiosity, her voice a little lower, she added, “And who are we talking about? Do I get to know?”

Louis could practically see his mum waggle her eyebrows at him and he wasn’t even there. Rolling his eyes in response, Louis was already grabbing for another cigarette. 

“Mum, I don‘t know,” he answered honestly, his cigarette between his lips. “That‘s why I‘m asking you.”

Johannah could hear Louis lighting up again. He seemed nervous.

“Well,” she prompted regardless. “Do I get to know?” she asked. “Is it a dancer? Do you even have dancers?” she wanted to know. “Or is it one of the boys?” she guessed. “Is it Harry? It’s Harry, isn’t it?” 

Taking a moment to inhale from his cigarette and then taking another moment to exhale, Louis pulled the cigarette away from his face, away from his body, watching the orange end of the cigarette dance in the night. Then, he thought out loud to his mother: 

“How do you always know?” he asked. “And no, Mum, we don’t have fucking dancers. It‘s not that type of boy band.”

On the other end of the line, Johannah laughed gleefully.

“Ah, my baby boy,” she said. “Mums always know,” she told him simply. “It‘s our super power. We know everything.” 

“Mmhmm, right…” Louis breathed, watching his cigarette still as he played with it between his fingers. Then, from his phone, his mother‘s voice came again:

“But to answer your question, I don‘t know, sweetheart. It depends. Do you have feelings?“

Suddenly, Johannah sounded serious. 

Louis took a moment to answer. “No, no I don‘t think so,” he answered honestly, still watching the orange glow on the end of his cigarette. “It’s just a dumb crush.”

“Well, that makes it easier,“ Johannah replied. “So I‘d say, just have fun with it. And, if you can help it, don‘t complicate it, don‘t complicate things, you know.”

Louis was dragging on his cigarette again. “Yeah,” he breathed in response, his mind elsewhere. “Yeah.”

“Because you know,“ his mother went on, “it‘s all fun and games until someone gets their feelings hurt.”

Louis wanted to roll his eyes at that. 

“Mum…” he protested. “It‘s not like that, believe me,” he told her.

“Well I don‘t know,” came Johannah‘s sincere reply. Louis could practically see her holding her hands up in defense. “You asked, and I‘m just saying - let it be fun, let yourself have fun, but be mindful, Louis. You don‘t want to have to work with someone if things go bad, that‘s all I‘m saying. It‘s not fun to work with someone if things are awkward or tense between you.”

“I know -” Louis tried. But Johannah continued:

“Especially if you have to live with them. And you and the boys, well, who knows how long you‘ll be on the road together for.”

“Yep,” Louis tried again, trying to wrap things up now.

“It could be years,” Johannah went on.

“Mum,” Louis attempted.

“You might have to share a bus, for God knows how long?”

“Mum,” Louis tried again.

“And being on the road for weeks on end…” Johannah continued.

“ _MUM_ ,” Louis was almost yelling now.

“Months, even…” Johannah went on. 

“ _MUM!_ ” Louis finally yelled. 

Then, Johannah stopped.

“Sorry,” she offered. “I‘m just trying to be practical here.”

“I know,” came Louis’ response, a mumble in the dark. And then he was biting at his thumbnail again. “Thanks.”

A moment of silence passed. Back home in Doncaster, Johannah sat back on the couch in the living room. Suddenly, Louis felt so far away.

Sitting on the step out the back of their most recent hotel, Louis looked up at the night sky. He could see nothing but clouds, illuminated in the relative darkness of the city lights. Back home, the sky was darker, more complete. There was less light pollution, and you could actually see the stars.

Louis looked to his cigarette for a moment, then brought it back to his mouth. He took a long drag before he spoke again.

“I should probably head back inside,” he told his mother. But then he added, “We have a week off now, by the way.”

“Oh?” Johanna asked, her curiosity peaking. “Are you coming home?” she asked hopefully.

“Nah,” Louis breathed out simply on his exhale. “We‘ve got strict instructions. We‘ve gotta stay in London. No alcohol, no drugs, no public outings,” he explained. “No fun.”

On the other end of the line, Johanna was frowning. 

“Well, what if I come there?” she offered.

But Louis was already shaking his head. “No, no, it‘s fine,” he assured her, or at least he tried to. He pulled his cigarette from his mouth, so he could speak clearer. “I‘ll be home soon.” 

He said that, but he actually had no idea when he’d be home next.

“Alright,” Johannah said, but she, too, sounded unconvinced. “Well…” she trailed off. “Take care, won‘t you, my big boy.”

Nodding although his mother couldn‘t see it, Louis took another drag from his cigarette.

“Yeah Mum, always,” he promised. And then they offered their goodbyes. 

After they hung up, Louis took a final exhale from his cigarette before he crushed it on the ground next to him. Taking his phone in his hands again, he saw he had a missed call from Niall, as well as a few messages he hadn’t seen.

 _Where are ya?_ Niall wanted to know. And then, when he‘d gotten no reply, he‘d written quite simply: _?????_

Louis typed a quick reply: _Sorry was on a call, snuck out back for a smoke_ , he explained. _Coming back now._

—

It was half-ten when Louis let himself back in his hotel room. He wandered in to find both Niall and Liam still lying comfortably on their respective couches. Both were on their phones, and both looked up when Louis entered.

“Fiiiiinally,” Liam jeered. “Thought you‘d been kidnapped.”

Louis raised his brow at Liam in return. “You wish,” he replied, and he was usually the king of sarcastic retorts, but it was all he said.

Louis walked across the hotel room to his bed, kicking his shoes off before he lay down. Feeling suddenly crowded, Louis put his pillow over his face.

It didn‘t go unmissed by Liam. “You alright?” he asked.

“Yep,” Louis said quickly, his voice muffled by the pillow over his face. “I‘m fucking great.”

—

In his own hotel room, Harry sat up on his bed, fiddling with a guitar that wasn‘t his. He‘d recently started playing around with one, both excited and jealous by the way their touring musicians played so well, and so easily.

For a while, it had been just Zayn and him, talking all things music. What they wanted, and what they didn‘t. Harry had expressed his desire to play music and start writing songs, too. Zayn agreed, but he was more interested in songwriting than he was in playing an instrument. Both agreed they wanted more than just singing songs that they weren‘t their own.

Now, with Zayn back in his own room, Harry was up gingerly playing a few chords, trying not to play too loud. Strumming down and up, over and over again, he played different variations of the same chords until he grew tired.

Finally, Harry put the guitar away and returned to his bed, ready for his first night‘s sleep in a long time that didn’t require him to set an alarm. 

Just as he shuffled down comfortably into the crisp sheets of the hotel bed, the lamp beside his bed the only light on, Harry’s phone buzzed with a message.

Fumbling about for the phone on his bedside, Harry pulled his phone over and next to his face.

 _You still up?_ the text message read. It was Liam.

 _Kiiinda_ , Harry replied. _Why? Everything OK?_

 _Yeah yeah, all good_ came Liam’s reply. _We’ll talk tomorrow. How about a coffee in the morning? :)_

 _OK sure_ , Harry replied. _Good niiiight._

With that, Harry put his phone on silent, put it back on the bedside table, and turned off the light.

—

Back in Louis’ room, Liam puts his phone back in his pocket. Looking across the room to his bandmates, Louis’ lying in bed, his face covered with a pillow for some reason, and Niall looks like he’s about to fall asleep on the couch he’s lying on, his arms folded across his chest.

“You alright?” Liam asks him, and it takes Niall a moment to register that someone is talking to him.

“Huh?” he asks, blinking a few times before he’s looking at Liam properly. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m bloody tired,” he realises. And with that, he’s getting up off the couch slowly, stretching once he’s up and standing. “Might head to bed myself, lads.”

“Yeah alright,” Liam agrees. “I’ll be gone in a bit, too.”

“So…” Niall starts. “Are we doing anything tomorrow then?” he asks, looking from Liam to Louis and back again.

Louis doesn’t reply, but Liam does:

“Doubt it,” he says. “I mean, we’re not going to ride dune buggies, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Niall rolls his eyes at that. ”Oh, shut up. Louis - what do you reckon? Dune buggies sometime? You and me?”

From under the pillow, Louis’ reply is short but agreeable: “Sure, whatever.”

Walking over the few feet to the bed, Niall grabs the pillow off Louis’ face. 

“Why’re you hiding?” he wants to know.

“Oi,” Louis protests, and then he’s grabbing for his pillow back. When Niall doesn’t let him have it, he just grabs another and puts that over his face instead. “Leave me alone,” he says. ”I’m tired.”

Exchanging a brief look with Liam, Niall shrugs, and then throws Louis’ pillow back on his bed.

“Alright, well I’m going to bed,” he says. “I’ll see you lot tomorrow.”

With that, Niall’s heading for the door.

“Night Niall,” Liam offers after him.

“Lock the door!” Louis calls out from under the pillow on his face. A moment later, the door clicks shut as Niall leaves.

Suddenly finding himself wishing Liam would leave too, Louis doesn’t say anything as he stays hiding under his pillow.

“Louis…” Liam starts, and he says it so innocently, so genuinely, but still, Louis sighs in return.

“No,” Louis says simply, impatient and unwilling to talk anymore. 

“I need to ask you something,” Liam continues. “Like, seriously mate.”

Suddenly feeling genuinely frustrated, Louis pushes the pillow into his face, sighing. “Really?” he asks. “Now?” Then he removes the pillow so he can look at Liam. “ _Right now?_ ”

Half nodding, half shrugging, Liam looks a bit guilty at that. He can tell he’s annoyed Louis. Louis looks tired, too.

“You’re so bloody annoying sometimes Liam, I swear,” Louis says. He isn’t afraid to tell him the truth.

And then...

“So, you and Harry...” Liam starts, his voice as careful as the look on his face. Even still, immediately, Louis is shaking his head and shutting him down.

“No,” Louis says simply. “No.” 

“Seriously, Louis, come on,” Liam tries. “We need to talk about this!”

But then Louis is actually getting up off his bed, getting to his feet, and walking over to Liam.

“Absolutely not,” Louis says and then he’s grabbing to hold onto both of Liam’s wrists. “You can leave now,” he says simply as he grabs and pulls at Liam’s arms, trying to pull him up and off the couch.

“Oh come on,” Liam protests, shrugging himself away from his bandmate. “I wanna know what’s going on. I know something is going on!”

But Louis is shaking his head again. “No,” he says simply. “Up,” he adds, and he’s pulling hard at Liam’s arms. “Go on, get up. I’m fucking serious, Liam.”

Relenting, Liam pulls himself back from Louis but gets up off the couch like he’s been asked to. Standing up and next to Louis, he looks him straight in the eye.

“Come on mate, you can tell me,” he tries again.

But Louis just laughs.

“Nope, absolutely not,” he says, and then he’s physically pushing Liam in the direction of the door.

“Louis!” Liam protests, but Louis has a strength to him, and he’s being pushed across the carpet towards the door.

“No,” Louis says again, and then he’s got Liam at his door. Opening it, he shoves Liam out unapologetically. “Good night, Liam,” he says, and with that, he shuts the door on him, forcing Liam to step back quickly to avoid being hit.

Staring blankly at the door that’s suddenly been shut in his face, Liam can do nothing but frown in response.

“Tomorrow, Louis!” he yells through the door. “We’re talking tomorrow!”

And Liam waits for Louis to reply - he’s definitely heard him - but Louis doesn’t. So it’s all Liam can do but turn and walk away, heading for his own hotel room to retreat for the night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam wants answers from Harry and Louis, answers that Harry doesn’t even think he has himself. They’re questions Louis won’t even consider as he finds himself ignoring and avoiding Harry.

When Harry still hadn’t messaged him by 9am to tell him that he was awake, Liam decided that it was time to wake Harry himself.

After a member of their team insisted on getting the hot drinks from the cafe downstairs - God forbid anyone saw him - Liam was at Harry’s door holding a cardboard tray of one tea and one coffee. With his free hand, Liam knocked loudly on Harry’s hotel room door.

“Harry!” he called. “It’s me.”

When there was no response, Liam knocked a little louder, and yelled out a little louder, too.

“Harry! You awake? It’s Liam.”

Suddenly, the door opened. 

Harry looked tired. And confused. His hair was messy, and he was only wearing long pajama pants, having rushed them on when he heard a knock at his door.

“Hello,” Harry mumbled. He sounded tired.

“Did I wake you?” Liam asked, looking Harry up and down. He was shirtless and his hair was a mess. And he looked like he'd just woken up.

Standing there, Harry just looked at Liam. “No,” he mumbled. “I was awake.”  
He wasn’t lying. Shaking his hair into place, Harry pushes his fringe out of his face.

“Right, well,” Liam said and then he’s pushing the tray of hot drinks towards Harry.

“Pick one,” he says simply. “One’s tea, one’s coffee.”

Looking down, Harry picks one at chance. Then Liam’s already turning and walking down the hall.

Shutting the door behind them, Harry just watches as Liam confidently strolls into his hotel room with the tray and his drink. Looking and feeling confused, Harry brought his own drink to his mouth, then took a sip.

“Hmm, coffee,” Harry mused. Then he took another sip before he followed Liam down the hall and further into his room.

Liam was sitting standing by Harry’s bed, just looking around, as he too sipped at his drink. Tea.

“Well then...” Liam prompted as he watched Harry approach and eyed him up and down.

Maybe it was just because he was shirtless, but Harry felt a little uncomfortable in Liam’s presence then. He felt incredibly... seen. 

“Well, what...?” Harry asked, the sound of sleep still lingering in his speech.

“You have news, I hear,” Liam said, taking another sip of tea. He made a face then. “Would have preferred the coffee, just saying,” he said as a side.

Harry’s brow lowered even further in his confusion. “What?” he asked. “You told me to pick one—” he started defensively. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Liam cut in. “Anyway, the news. Go on.” 

Harry’s look of confusion doesn’t leave his face. 

“What news?” he asked. He was genuinely confused. “I have no news. Should I have news?”

Liam shrugs at that. “I don’t know, do you? I think you might.”

Harry’s biting his tongue in his confusion now. “I don’t think I do,” he says. “About what?”

“About you and Louis!” Liam says simply, finally and with obvious exasperation.

Harry laughs and looks down then. _Oh, that._ A cheeky grin stays on his face as he remembers having Louis in his mouth, then Liam busting them, then having Louis in his mouth later again, then feeling him come for the first time... in his mouth. It took a moment to look up and reply to Liam, to look him in the eye.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Harry says simply, honestly. The smirk though, he couldn’t wipe off his face. 

Liam shrugged. Then he was taking another sip of his tea. “Tell me whatever you want to tell me,” he suggested. “Start there.”

“But I don’t know what to tell you,” Harry said pointedly. “I don’t know what this is.”

“Well,” Liam tried, “Just tell me what you can then. What happened?”

“What, that I went down on him?” Harry asked honestly. He phrased it as a question, because, well, if that’s all Liam wanted to know...?

“What?” Liam asks. His face scrunches up in his confusion. “No,” he says, and he’s shaking his head. “Not like that. Not like, what did you do, but like, what are you?”

Harry looked confused. “What, gay?” he asked. “Because I don’t know if he is but—”

“What?” Liam cuts in again. “No, I mean, what are you and Louis.” He’s gesturing vaguely at the distance between them. “Like, what is it? What’s between you?”

Harry still looks confused as he answers Liam.

“Liam, we’re not even sleeping together,” Harry clarifies. With him and Louis, there was no ‘them’ let alone an ‘us’. “We’re not together,” he went on, “if that’s what you mean.”

“Right,” Liam answered, “OK. But what’s going on between the two of you? Like, are you more than just friends? Are you OK?”

Harry’s still looking at Liam, so confused, and kind of concerned, too. Why did it matter so much? 

“I’m OK,” he says, although he still sounds, and is, confused. “We’re good friends,” Harry said. “I really like him, and if I’m honest, I want to fuck him,” he added. “... and I want him to fuck me, too.”

Liam simply blinks in response. He’s so surprised because Harry is so...honest.  
“Jesus…” Liam mutters and then he’s shaking his head before he’s looking down at the ground. “Um, okay,” he says, and even though he’s trying, there’s still a look of concern or distaste on his face. “You two really need a room,” he adds.

Looking sheepish, Harry laughed and he nodded his head. Yeah. He could agree with that.

“As luck would have it, we have two,” Harry says, and then he was nodding around to the room they were in. 

Nodding to the bed in response, Liam raised his brow at Harry. “Have you?” he asks, but Harry shakes his head.

“No,” he says, still half grinning, half smirking. He couldn’t keep it off his face, not as long as he was thinking about Louis and him having sex, anyway.

“You look confident though,” Liam tells him.

Harry looks up to meet his eye, then shrugs. “I can be,” he agrees.

“Well,” Liam says, and he’s looking at Harry and he looks serious now. “Are you?” he asks. “Are you confident about this?” 

Liam was getting serious about this, about them, Harry could tell. It made Harry feel he had to be, too. So nodding his head, Harry’s eyes were wide in his honesty, in his agreement.

“Yeah,” Harry says. Then he was inhaling deep, to hold up his body with more confidence. “Yeah, I am.” Did he think he and Louis could sleep together and it would be fine? Yeah, of course he did. Of course they could.

But Liam didn’t say anything. He just looked Harry up and down. And he just wouldn’t look away, so Harry did; he looked towards the hotel window, as if there was something outside to see.

“You better be,” Liam finally said. And he didn’t mean to come across harsh, but he just needed Harry to know he was serious. 

Harry finally looked back again to meet Liam’s eye. He didn’t know why Liam was taking this so personally, so seriously, but he was trying to keep up with him anyway.

“I am,” Harry said. “I am,” he promised.

“Good,” Liam said with a nod, and then he was looking down to the lid of his takeaway tea. “Because you know, if it fucks up, it fucks this up completely - it fucks _us_ up completely.”

He was looking at Harry now, and his face was worried and kind of a warning too, so Harry just stared back, not knowing what else to say. So Liam went on.

“I’ve always wanted this, Harry,” he told him, "the band, I mean. Singing, performing. And it's only just starting and… I can’t see it end, you know?”

Harry nodded his head slowly in return. He thinks he knows what Liam means. Either way, he can tell Liam’s serious about it, and because of it, so is he.

“Liam,” Harry said. “It won’t fuck us up,” he promised. “We won’t fuck this up, I’m telling you.”

And he was praying it as he was saying it, hoping it would be exactly as he was saying so.

“OK,” Liam said with a nod. “OK, good.” And then he was trying a smile. “Thanks,” he added appreciatively. 

And Harry nodded and then he was trying to smile, too. “It’s OK.”

This would be… OK, right? They could be OK. Harry was thinking of Louis now. He needed to see Louis. Just to make sure. They were OK, right...?

—

“I’ve got an idea,” Niall announces to his hotel room. Sitting around him are Zayn, Liam, and Harry, all of them looking as bored as the other.

Harry is the only one that looks up. “Yeah?” he asks, not feeling particularly curious.

“This better not be about dune buggies,” Liam quips. He doesn’t even bother looking up, his eyes on his phone.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Niall responds. And then he’s looking around his bandmates for their attention. But no one’s even looking, besides Harry, that is.

“Camping!” Niall says, and he’s looking at everyone as if it’s the most obvious thing. “We want to do something, so why not go camping?” he asks. Then he’s looking around the group of boys for their response. “Well…?”

Zayn shrugs, looking up briefly before he's back looking at his phone. Harry shrugs, too. Liam looks up from his phone, his face blank.

“No way, it’s way too bloody cold,” he says. “And anyway, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m actually quite comfy and happy with the accommodation we’ve got. I mean, I’d rather not freeze my balls off in the middle of nowhere… But hey, that’s just me.”

Niall blinks at Liam, obviously unimpressed at Liam’s complete lack of excitement or encouragement for their camping trip. 

“Well I don’t mean now now,” Niall retorts. “Just… when we can. When it’s a bit warmer. Just an idea.”

“Could be fun,” Zayn agrees with a small shrug, looking around to the others.

Harry nods. “I haven’t gone camping in ages,” he says.

“Right?!” Niall says, excited the boys are getting on board. “See, I knew there was something fun we could do that’s private as well.”

“Yeah,” Liam says sarcastically, because he’s not in the slightest part blown over by the idea. “Well just let us know when you get the green light on that one,” he says with an eye roll. “As if management are letting that happen - a tree branch could fall on us and kill us,” Liam adds with even more sarcasm.

Admittedly, Niall hasn’t got as far to ask management, so he rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“No problem,” he replies, feigning his certainty. “I’ll run it past Richard and the others. It'll be fine. It’ll happen.”

And he says that, but no one replies. There are just nods and ‘mmm’s’ and then everyone’s doing their own thing again - which mostly meant looking at their phones. And Harry couldn’t help it - he was one of them. 

Really noting Louis’ absence now, Harry sends Louis a quick text: _Niall reckons we should all go camping together. You in?_

And Louis gets the text, he does, but he immediately gets rid of the notification and then puts his phone away again.

He doesn’t reply.

—

The following day, inside the hotel gym, Harry is running along a treadmill, trying to get at least some exercise after all the sitting around they’d been doing. He hasn’t even been running long but he’s sweating and with his hair everywhere and always falling back into his eyes, he's forced to continuously push his sweaty hair back out of his even-sweatier face.

Suddenly, Louis walks in. He looks up, and when he sees Harry, he can’t help but be caught in his gaze for a moment. He meets Harry’s eyes first, then looks at Harry’s neck, sweaty, his shirt, also sweaty, his hair, even sweatier. Harry was breathing hard, even as he slowed to a stop and took his earphones out of his ears, ready to talk to Louis.

And Louis’ caught every detail, in those four or five seconds in which all he could do was stare at Harry, but then just as quickly as he’d come in, he spins on his feet and is out the door.

Without a word, he was gone.

Confused, Harry stood with his hands on his hips, catching his breath, having watched Louis walk in, and then walk straight back out. For a few more moments, Harry just stares right where Louis was, but then he just shrugs to himself, puts his earphones back in, and starts to run again.

—

On day three of their break, Louis makes a point of staying away from everyone. 

Sleeping in, he ignores the texts on his phone, and has a lazy breakfast on his own. And after pestering management for long enough, swearing he’d wear a beanie and sunglasses and the rest of it, Louis managed to convince at least one of his bosses to let him go out for a walk. He takes a football with him, just because.

Dressed in track pants, a T-shirt and a zip-up hoodie, Louis’ wearing a beanie, too, as he walks around the block. In no time at all, his walk turns into a run, and pretty soon he’s found a park to kick the football around in. On his own, Louis kicks the ball around and chases after it, completing some drills on his own, too. Even when rain begins to fall, he continues to play on his own in the park, covered by a dark sky and even darker rainclouds. Even with rain falling on him, it was worth it, kicking the ball around for the first time in a long time.

While he was there, Louis even moved two rubbish bins apart as a makeshift goal, and then starts kicking goals between them. Completely drenched by cool rain but feeling hot from all the running around he’s doing, Louis eventually kicks the ball one hard, final time, aiming for a different goal this time. With a loud thud, the football slams into the bin and it topples to the ground. Louis smirks at that. Yeah. He feels better now.

Running a slow run up to the bins, Louis picks the bin back up before he grabs his soccer ball. With a final look around, he begins back for their hotel, pulling his hoodie up over his head as it continues to rain.

It takes him about 20 minutes to get back, but Louis doesn’t mind. He needs the walk, the movement; he needs the time alone, to think. 

By the time Louis arrives back at their hotel, he is well and truly drenched through. He’s greeted by two unhappy members of management - one of whom says something along the lines of he’ll be getting a cold now that he was just asking for it. Since the nagging reminded him of his grandmother, Louis just rolled his eyes but then gave their chaperone Karen a sheepish grin; the look of a cheekish young lad. With his good-looks and charm, Louis knew he could win her over. Full of confidence, on an adrenaline high from the football, Louis was all smiles and grins until they got out of the elevator.

Then, standing there, waiting for the elevator, was Harry.

Louis’ face falls. Licking his lips, suddenly nervous, his eyes hit the ground momentarily and then he’s looking off in the direction of his hotel room, ignoring the foreground and Harry completely as he walks past him and towards his hotel room.

Confused, Harry’s brow lowers as he frowns. That’s twice now Louis was apparently in a huge rush to leave when he saw him.

Taking out his phone, Harry sent Louis a message: _You alright?_

Again, it was a message that Louis saw, but never did reply to.

—

After not seeing Louis for days, by day five, Harry was starting to think Louis was ignoring him. So, he sent him another message:

_Hey - are you OK?_

And when, again, Louis didn’t reply, Harry even tried calling him.

With no answer, Harry left a voicemail:

“It’s just me. Just wondering if you’re OK. Call me back.”

But by the end of the night, Louis still hadn’t called, or even texted. Feeling confused and a bit hurt, at first, Harry considered ringing Niall or Zayn to see if they’d heard from Louis. But then, not wanting to involve anyone else, Harry changed his mind, and put his phone in his back pocket. Instead, he grabbed his hotel key and left his hotel room for Louis’.

Louis’ room was only a few down the hall, but Harry hadn’t seen him days now. He’d seen all the other boys, and they’d all hung out, but Louis hadn’t joined them anytime that he was there.

Now, in the early evening, Harry was standing at Louis’ door. Knocking lightly, he waited but he got no reply. Knocking louder, Harry called Louis’ name as well. Again, he got no reply. There was no way to tell if Louis was there or not, so Harry left back for his own hotel room. He texted Louis instead:

“If you read this anytime soon, maybe we can hang out a bit before bed?”

Still, Louis didn’t reply.

Instead, Harry fell asleep, his room lamp still on, waiting for Louis to reply, ready to meet him in an instance, if he wanted to.

—

By the next morning, Harry didn’t only feel let down to realise Louis had, again, not replied to him, but he also felt annoyed. There was no reason Louis should ignore him, so why was he? As a result, determined to see him, Harry rang around to management, trying to find if anyone had recently been with, or seen, Louis.

Harry was thankful when only the second person in their staff he called had seen Louis that morning, and just ten or fifteen minutes ago.

“Oh really?” Harry asked, his hope rising. He’d actually been afraid that he’d be told that Louis was sick or otherwise unwell in some way.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Paul, their touring manager. “Lad went out for a kick of the football. But between me and you, I reckon he’d be having a quick smoke out back first.”

“Right,” Harry said, thinking out loud. “Thanks, Paul.” 

And then he’s hanging up his phone and checking the time. It was just before 10am. So, taking the stairs down to the back of the hotel, Harry opens the large exit door to a small, concrete terrace, where, just as Paul had said he’d be, Louis was standing with a cigarette in his mouth.

Before Louis could say anything, Harry spoke first.

“Why are you ignoring me?” he asked.

And he said it so simply, and the courtyard was small, so Louis definitely heard him. There could be no mistake.

His brow lowered in his confusion and surprise, Louis made a point to take a drag from his cigarette before he answered Harry.

“What?” he asked in return. 

It made Harry’s brow lower in annoyance. 

“You’re ignoring me,” Harry said. “Why are you ignoring me?”

As well as annoyed, Harry looked sad, and hurt.

“I’m not,” answered Louis defensively. And then he’s gesturing vaguely. “I’ve just been... busy,” he argued lamely. 

Harry just looked at Louis. “Really?” he asked. “Because we’ve been _so_ busy,” he said sarcastically.

When Louis didn’t say anything, Harry continued: “And each time I saw you, all you did was run away.”

Louis scoffed at that. “I wasn’t running away,” he laughed. But he looked uncomfortable, partly wrapping his arms around himself.

“In the gym, in the hall,” Harry pointed out, reminding him. “And you haven’t been replying to my messages.”

Rolling his eyes, Louis brings his cigarette to his mouth again. _Whatever._

“Right now,” Harry pointed out, his brow lowering further in his annoyance. "You're ignoring me right now!"

“So what?” Louis cuts in then. He pulls the cigarette from his mouth, holding it out to his side.

“So why are you ignoring me?” Harry wants to know. “What did I do?”

But Louis just shrugs pathetically. He licks his lips, feeling awkward, and then he’s bringing his cigarette to his mouth again, taking a drag.

“Nothing,” Louis said. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then why are you ignoring me?” Harry asked again.

“I’m not!” Louis argued, but his eyes couldn’t stay on Harry’s.

“You won’t even look me in the eye,” Harry pointed out, and he sounded offended, too.

Louis knew Harry was right. But he just kicked at the football at his feet, holding his cigarette down by his thigh.

“Louis,” Harry said, and Louis swallowed, because he felt his throat go dry at the sound of Harry saying his name.

“What?” Louis asked, unable to make himself look up.

“Look at me,” Harry said, but Louis couldn’t. It was too much. The big green eyes, the staring gaze. The pretty eyelashes, the curls in his hair. Louis looked down, kicking at the cement under his feet.

“Louis,” Harry pressed, and suddenly Louis was dropping his cigarette and crushing it into the ground under his foot.

Harry got the feeling Louis was about to try and make his exit, so Harry went up to Louis, approaching him with more confidence than he realised he had.

Looking up to find Harry right next to him, Louis met Harry’s gaze only briefly before he was looking past Harry’s shoulder.

“Look at me,” Harry said simply. His voice was low. He was serious. And his voice was so deep. 

Swallowing again, Louis made himself look at Harry. Suddenly, so close to him, Louis could smell Harry again. He could feel him right next to him. Harry was looking in his eyes, and Louis immediately felt himself feel weak. In his pants, he felt a rush of blood to his dick, and he felt himself get hard.

He felt like he was falling. It was taking everything Louis had to force himself to look at Harry. And at the same time, Louis now felt like he could never look away.

“Thank you,” Harry said, and he meant it, even as his eyes drifted over Louis’ features. His nose. His eyes. His mouth. 

It made Louis feel a new kind of weak. So much so, he couldn’t speak. Almost glad when Harry did, except for what he said.

“Now please, tell me why,” Harry said. “Tell me why you’ve been ignoring me.”

And Harry just looked in Louis’ eyes then. He was asking him, he was telling him, he was really just hoping he’d get _something_ in return.

But Louis just shook his head. He couldn’t say anything, couldn’t even make a sound.

Harry stepped around Louis, just looking at him up close, almost as if surveying him for the first time. Then, stepping a little closer, he stood just an inch from Louis, his eyes on his, and then looking over his best features: his jaw, his neck, his mouth. And then, his eyes again.

Feeling light-headed, Louis realised he was holding his breath. Letting it go, it came out a sort of sigh, just as he felt Harry nuzzle into his neck. Then, he could feel Harry’s lips on his skin.

Louis’ neck was smooth. It tasted like sweat and Louis smelt like cigarettes. Even still, Harry let his eyes fall shut as he started moving up, exploring other skin on Louis. Up his neck, across his jaw, and finally, at the corner of his mouth, Harry stopped there, his lips parted, wet, and ready, if Louis wanted them.

His eyes barely open, feeling overcome with lust and need and desire, Louis bravely looked down to Harry as he hovered above his lips. Even though every fibre of his being screamed for Harry’s kiss, begged for Harry’s touch, Louis still had parts of him that screamed no in return, and wanted him to stop.

But Louis wasn’t always good at listening. He could never do what he was told. So he forcefully met Harry’s lips, kissing Harry, hard. His hands flew to Harry’s face, and then Louis pressed himself up and into Harry, walking him backwards until - _thud_ \- Harry’s back hit the exit door heavily.

Harry groaned at the feeling of a metal door handle being shoved into his back. His groan sounded into their kiss, and Louis felt it. In his pants, Louis felt it too. He was as hard as he possibly could be, trapped in his pants as he was, so he just pushed up against Harry heavily instead. He was in need of him, in need of some sort of friction, so Louis shoved himself between Harry’s legs, grinding into Harry's thighs, his hips, with his own.

As they kissed deeply, Harry tried to ignore that Louis was repeatedly pushing him back into a metal door handle as they made out. Leaning down to kiss Louis, Harry steadied himself by wrapping an arm around Louis’ neck, his hand in his short hair. 

Louis kissed Harry in a way that Harry had not experienced before. Louis was beyond desperate. He had a huge and obvious bulge in his pants, he was rubbing up against Harry’s legs, and both of Louis’ hands were continuously grabbing and pulling at Harry’s belt, pulling him closer towards him, and not letting go.

Grinning into their kiss, Harry pulled away as he almost laughed, and then waited for Louis’ mouth to find his again. His eyes shut, a grin on his face, Harry waited for Louis’ mouth on his, until he felt it on his neck instead.

“Oh,” Harry sighed, realising suddenly that, yeah, Louis was serious.

His eyes shut, Louis was repeatedly wetting and sucking at Harry’s neck. In the same spot, over and over, he licked and sucked at Harry’s skin, until finally, his ears heard it; that beautiful noise that sounded like magic - Harry groaned in response. It was a groan of pleasure.

“Fuck,” Harry sighed. And while Louis just kept going to town on Harry's neck, he lifted up Harry's shirt to touch under and up his shirt at the same time. Moving further down Harry's neck, Louis slid his hand back down Harry's torso, down to his navel, across his middle and then down further, into his pants.

His breath hitching in his throat, Harry looked up towards the sky and blinked quickly as Louis began feeling up his dick, as well as his balls. He was really just having a good feel around.

As Harry felt himself start to get hard, he looked down to Louis.

“Um, maybe we should - maybe we should go inside,” Harry suggested. 

But Louis didn’t reply. Not in the way of words, anyway. Instead, his response was to bury his hand further in Harry’s pants, roaming around, feeling around and up and down Harry’s inner thigh before he took Harry’s length in his hands. His hand resting comfortably at its base, Louis just breathed into Harry’s neck in disbelief:

“You’re getting hard,” is all he said. He said it quietly, too, but Harry heard it whispered right in his ear, and he felt it on his skin too.

Harry didn’t say anything, just nodded, because he wasn’t as impressed by his growing boner as Louis apparently was.

Louis, quite frankly, was obsessed. Feeling euphoric, he couldn’t believe he was feeling what he felt: he was actually feeling Harry get hard in his hand. It was not only extremely hot and added to his arousal, it also felt ethereal in some way. Moving his head away from the skin of Harry’s neck, Louis looked at Harry’s face, searching for his eyes.

Harry’s eyes were shut, his mouth just open and his lips parted in what could be pain, pleasure, or disbelief. Wanting to make sure it was pleasure, Louis felt up Harry a little more, slowly, softly, just so he could see the pleasure on Harry's face.

Slowly, Harry was smiling, then grinning momentarily before his mouth just hung open, feeling too many things to smile anymore.

“Louis,” Harry protested, but his hands disobeyed him, feeling up Louis’ sides, pulling at his hips and side to bring him closer. “We… we should go inside.”

Closing his eyes now, Louis nodded into Harry’s neck. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He was almost shaking from everything he felt, the overwhelming sense of lust and desire that Harry evoked in him had, once again, overtaken him. 

“I really, really need to fuck you,” Louis said simply. His voice was a whisper, almost a growl as he sighed the words into Harry’s skin, and it made every hair on Harry’s neck and arms stand on its end.

Suddenly, Harry pushed Louis off him, only to step and turn and move Louis so Louis was underneath him, pushing him into the door instead, their roles reversed. 

This time, it was Louis who groaned in pain when the door handle dug into his back.

“Ah, fuck,” Louis muttered in his pain, but then he felt Harry on his neck, and further south, he felt Harry’s hand as it struggled to get into his pants. 

Shoving his hand down into Louis’ pants, Harry needed to feel how hard Louis was, and he knew he was, but when he felt it for himself, he couldn’t help the way he groaned into Louis’ neck in return.

"You're so fucking hard," Harry murmured in disbelief. Feeling his own dick pulsing in his jeans, Harry couldn't help the groan that escaped his mouth.

Louis felt the groan on the skin of his neck just as he felt Harry’s warm hand wrap around his trapped, hard, length. It was an awkward operation, but Louis moaned in response to Harry's hand anyway.

“Harry, I’m serious,” Louis sighed. And he was panting, so Harry believed him. “I need to fuck you," Louis added. "I need to fuck you right now.”

Harry shook his head at that. “Not here,” he said. “Not right now.” But then he kissed Louis, and they made out while they both felt each other up some more.

Finally, Louis pulled away and pulled his hand out from Harry’s pants, too. Then, he pulled Harry with him before he heavily shoves Harry back into the door again, again with another _thud_ against the heavy metal door.

“Aagh,” Harry groaned, but then Louis was kissing him heavily, and he didn’t care about the handle in his back anymore. 

Still, feeling himself get harder and harder, Harry began to squirm underneath Louis’ touch. He couldn't take it much longer.

“Louis,” Harry sighed, and his voice is deep and thick with lust that Louis rubs up against him in response. “Louis,” Harry went on, “my room or your room, now,” he managed. And finally, Louis stops kissing him, and he’s nodding in his agreement too.

“OK,” Louis finally says, and he’s meeting Harry’s gaze again. 

Harry just looks at Louis, boldly, bravely, because Louis almost looked wild. His pupils were dilated but at the same time his eyelids were heavy, so he looked almost high as he tried to keep their gaze connected. It made that familiar fire rise in Harry, the feeling that kind of felt like his stomach was dropping away. Because if Louis looked like this now, and they hadn’t even started, Harry couldn’t wait to see what his just-been-fucked face looked like.


End file.
